


Feather One Divided

by twilighteve



Series: DT17 Magic AU [8]
Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017), Legend of the Three Caballeros (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Everyone has magic, Family, Gen, Kidnapping, Magical Artifacts, Magical Bond, Separation, the caballeros have magic, twin telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 61,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twilighteve/pseuds/twilighteve
Summary: Feather one divided, fate’s ties frayed,Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone.After sharing an unsettling dream of Felldrake, the Three Caballeros decided to join back together with Xandra to form a stronghold in case the sorcerer returned. But Felldrake’s plans proved to be bigger than they expected, and when he struck so close to home, it was all Donald could do to keep his family – and himself – together.
Relationships: Della Duck & Donald Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, José Carioca & Donald Duck & Panchito Pistoles
Series: DT17 Magic AU [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777444
Comments: 185
Kudos: 181





	1. The Dream

_Feather one divided to three,_

_The red, the blue, and the green._

* * *

_The rush of wind upon her face – unfamiliar, harsh, cold. The sky expanded, the universe opened for her eyes, galaxies swelling and shining with the light of stars and colorful nebulas. Rocks floated, seemingly weightless, but her feet stayed firmly grounded. The rocks may escape the laws of gravity, but she couldn’t._

_A shape loomed over her, an ominous shade of purple. It was a giant fowl with multiple horns and large, round belly, with booming voice that rang and echoed in the galaxy. His whole appearance would have been hilarious with how dramatic he was if he wasn’t also downright terrifying. He grinned at her, and dread pooled in her stomach – something whispered in her mind, telling her that he shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be like this, that this was wrong, all wrong._

_Red and green flashed around her and ran to the giant fowl, and she followed, clad in blue light. There was a weight of a sword in her hand, unfamiliar but not unwelcome._

_The shape reached out, striking out like a snake. Her sight was obscured in the purple, and the world went dark._

She woke with a start.

She blinked, for a moment disoriented. She took a deep breath and felt her magic, knowing immediately that the dream didn’t come from her. With that in mind, she rose from her bed and treaded lightly on the wooden floor, making her way to the houseboat.

“Donald?” she called softly as she opened the door to his bedroom. “What was with that dream?”

Her brother was curled up on his hammock, face illuminated by his phone. He looked up at her and tiredly waved her away. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep, Dell.”

“Are you sure? That didn’t feel like nothing,” Della said. “And you’re up. Are you okay? Should we go to the kitchen?”

Donald snorted. “Uncle Scrooge will be mad if we drink coffee and eat brownies again.”

“Well, there’s hot chocolate.”

Donald shook his head. “It’s fine, Dell. Go back to sleep.”

Della studied his face. “Well… if you’re sure.” She turned, her gaze on Donald lingering, and walked away. “Goodnight, Don.”

“Night, Dell.”

The door clicked shut.

* * *

With Della gone, Donald returned his attention to his phone, scanning the last texts in the group chat with Panchito and José.

[9:27 PM] José:  
ok, so i will go to mexico to get panchito and then we’ll get you  
see you in duckburg, donald :))

[9:29 PM] Panchito:  
i’m so excited for this!  
the caballeros, back together again!

[9:30 PM] Me:  
yea i’m excited too!!  
see you soon guys!

His fingers hovered over the keys, thinking about what he wanted to write. Before he could decide, the phone _ding_ ed softly as a new message came in. He checked in, reading the text, and the phone _ding_ ed again and again as more message came in.

[2:43 AM] Panchito:  
hey did you see that

[2:44 AM] José:  
are you talking about the felldrake vision?  
si

[2:44 AM] Panchito:  
oh good! that’s not just me

[2:45 AM] Me:  
no?? notg ood?  
guys we haven’t heard of felldrake in literal years and we just had a shared vision  
this feels like an omen?

[2:47 AM] José:  
but we can’t do anything about it now  
we should meet up first i think  
discuss it in person

[2:48 AM] Panchito:  
and also see if we get more vision?  
maybe xandra will meet us

[2:49 AM] Me:  
do we know where she is or how to contact her

[2:50 AM] Panchito:  
no, she didn’t say

[2:50 AM] Me:  
well shit

[2:51 AM] José:  
ok, i have an idea  
i’ll hit the places xandra might be in as i go to panchito  
we’ll search for her as we go to duckburg  
when we get to donald we continue searching  
maybe we can check the old cabana

[2:53 AM] Panchito:  
that sounds good

[2:54 AM] Me:  
yeah, ok  
see you soon?

[2:54 AM] Panchito:  
see you soon  
buenos noches, dulces sueños

[2:55 AM] José:  
you too, panchinto, donald

Donald locked the screen and set the phone away, mind whirling. It had been a while since he thought in length about Felldrake. After all, they hadn’t heard of the sorcerer after he ran away in Sheldgoose’s body, and while Xandra had gone to track him down, there was no word about it. In his mind, he’d assumed that maybe Felldrake had just… croaked.

He sighed and laid back down, one hand snaking underneath his pillow. He froze when his fingers brushed against something cool and hard, and he took it out.

The familiar amulet gleamed in his hand.

* * *

Louie suppressed a yawn as he opened the fridge to get milk. The morning was lazy and sluggish, with the occupants of the manor reaching for coffee or breakfast for their chosen pick-me-up. He knew, though, that it wouldn’t be for long. Uncle Donald told them that Panchito and José would be visiting, which was exciting to say the least. They were fun to be around.

As he poured cereal into his bowl, though, he noticed Uncle Donald blearily looking at his mug, looking more pensive than excited. Frowning, Louie opened the carton of milk and asked, “So, Panchito and José. When will they arrive?”

“Hm, hwha?” Uncle Donald looked up to meet his eyes, his magic just as sluggish as he looked. The question registered and he nodded. “Right! Panchito and José, right. They’ll arrive maybe in a week or so, they’re kind of sightseeing as they go.” He straightened up, seemingly regaining a bit of clarity. “But I know you kids are going later, and you’d better be back for lunch.”

“Aw, don’t worry, Uncle Donald. We’re just going to be in Funso’s for a bit,” Huey assured. “As long as Dewey doesn’t spend too much time playing that new spy game…”

“Hey, that _new spy game_ is the spiffiest game in existence, and I will _not_ let you slander it.”

“It’s okay, we’ll make sure to check the time,” Webby said.

“Alright, then. Take care, you guys.” Uncle Donald went back to contemplating his coffee mug. Mom glanced at him, frowned, and turned to the kids.

“Anyway, you kids have enough money for the bus fare? Do you need anything?”

“That’s okay, we got everything,” Huey said. The rest of breakfast went down quietly, though Louie noticed Mom and Uncle Donald’s magic keep rising and poking each other the way they always do when they talked magically. A part of him wondered what they were talking about, but then he remembered the one time he asked they answered, in unison, _taxes_. He was too young to be thinking about taxes, thanks.

The four of them set off to the bus stop, meeting up with Violet and Lena on the stop nearest to Funso’s. Webby immediately flocked with the girls, chattering up and down about anything and everything as the boys exchanged greetings with them. Dewey practically dragged the girls to play _Double-O-Duck_ while Huey and Louie opted to hang about the tables, people watching and waiting for the others to be done.

“Hey, do you want something to drink?” Louie asked after a while.

“Sure. We can share a cup, that’ll be cheaper,” Huey said. He glanced at Louie and whispered, “And, hey. Water, alright?”

“Psssh, Huey. It’s like you don’t know me at all.” Louie rolled his eyes and went to get the cup, already wondering if the Pep station was filled or not.

Huey huffed. “My brother is a criminal,” he commented dramatically. “Anyway, I’m gonna go check out the arcade. Meet you later?”

“Sure.”

Louie eventually settled for the punch, and he sat on the table, happily skimming though social media using Funso’s free wifi – it was slow, but bearable.

The sound of a chair leg scraping against the floor drew his gaze up, and he came face to face with a goose in purple who stared into his eyes with much more intensity than he was comfortable with. Upon seeing Louie looking up at him, he smiled. “Hello,” he greeted.

Louie blinked. “Uh, hi?”

“Is this seat taken?” the goose asked again. Without waiting for Louie’s answer, he leaned forward and placed his chin on his hand. “Tell me, boy. Are you alone? Don’t your parents know to not leave kids alone in places like this?”

Louie blinked again and sized the goose. “I’m not alone,” he said as he slipped his phone into his pocket and took the cup – it was empty by now – and slowly slid off the chair. “But I was told not to talk to strangers. Bye.” He walked hastily, passing the goose, eyes already scanning the arcade to find Huey.

“Hey, don’t be so hasty.” The goose’s hand shot out and caught Louie’s elbow, and he dropped the empty cup. “I just wanted to talk to you a bit. I’m a little concerned, you know, since you’re alone and all.”

“I’m not alone. Let go.” Louie tugged his arm away, but the goose didn’t relent. Panic whispered into his magic as he dug deep into himself, searching for Huey’s comfortable warmth and Dewey’s excitable sparks.

The goose had been maintaining a thin smile the whole time, but the moment Louie reached for his brothers’ magic, his smile widened into something bordering on a grin as something washed over Louie. It felt vast and limitless, dark with twinkles of light in the distance, and so so cold and unforgiving Louie felt his knees buckle immediately. He caught himself on the table and scrambled back, but the goose kept his hold.

“Oh,” the goose breathed. “Interesting.”

“Let go,” Louie demanded again, but his voice had grown weak.

“No, no, look at you. You don’t look like you can even stand up straight.” The goose tilted his head as his grip grew tighter. “Why don’t I just… make sure you’re okay?”

Louie opened his mouth to decline, but his tongue felt leaden, his body heavy, the vastness dark twining his limbs and pressing him down like invisible load upon his shoulders. Only his left hand seemed to feel lighter, and he didn’t know why.

“Hey!”

A hand grabbed his arm while another ripped the goose’s hold away. Louie stumbled as the invisible load lifted, as he found his voice once again. He looked up to see Funso’s pig manager, who took one look at him and hastily shoved him behind his leg. “Sir, what were you doing to the kid?” he asked menacingly.

“Oh, I was just making sure the boy is alright,” the goose reasoned as he stood up. “He looks unwell, and it doesn’t look like his parents are around.”

“Do you know him?” the manager asked again.

“I don’t – I don’t know him,” Louie interjected before the goose could reply.

“Is that so,” the manager growled at the goose. He glanced back at Louie and looked around. “Look, kid, you look shaken, so why don’t you go find Jane and go sit in my office for a bit?”

“No.” Louie’s answer might have come a little too quickly, given how the manager glanced at him in concern. “No, I’m. I’m fine. I’m just gonna go find my… friends.” He shuffled back.

The manager handed him a new cup. “At least take this. Go drink whatever, it’s on the house.”

“Thank you,” Louie took the cup with shaky hands and bolted out of there, catching the sight of the manager talking softly but sternly to the goose, who held a neutral smile on his face the whole time as he climbed the stairs to the arcade area.

He almost crashed into Huey as he ran into the arcade area, and Huey immediately steadied him. “Louie?” Huey called. “Are you okay? I felt you reaching out, what happened?”

Louie blinked, meeting Huey’s concerned gaze, trying to control his hands so he didn’t crush the cup in his hold. “Um, there was a… a man, a goose, he gave me the creeps. Funso’s manager dealt with him.”

Huey breathed, and Louie could almost feel his concern bleed into relief. The sound of people running closer drew their attention, and they turned to check. Dewey, Webby, Lena, and Violet ran to them, and Dewey skidded to a halt as he reached to Louie.

“What? What? You felt weird earlier, did something bad happen?” Dewey grabbed Louie by the arms and stared at him.

Huey placed a hand on Dewey’s. “Louie said there was a creepy man, but the manager dealt with it.”

Louie nodded and held up the cup. “The manager said I can take whatever. I guess that’s a compensation or whatever.”

“Did he say anything to you? The creep?”

“Not really. But he wouldn’t leave me alone. He grabbed me by my arm.” Louie frowned. “I think… he might have magic.”

“Did he feel like space? Big, dark, cold?” Lena cut in. “Because I felt that rising, earlier.”

“Yeah,” Louie gulped. “Yeah, it felt like that.”

Dewey looked around. “I don’t like this. Someone grabbed you and he has magic? And it felt paralyzing earlier.”

Huey blinked. “Oh. That was from him? The heaviness?”

Louie nodded. “I don’t know if he’s still around. If he is, I don’t want to stay here.”

Violet looked around. “What is he?”

“Goose in purple.”

“I don’t see anyone fitting that description.”

“Hey, come on. Let’s get you something to drink.” Webby took the cup and his hand and led Louie back to the tables. “I’ll get you something. What do you want? Pep? Punch?”

“I think I can do with Pep,” Louie admitted with a smile.

“One Pep, coming right up!” Webby interlocked her elbow with Lena’s and dragged her away.

“Hey, I know it’s just happened and it’s probably still really scary for you, but can you tell in detail what the goose is like?” Huey asked as Louie sat down. He had flipped his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook to an empty page at the back. “I’ll write it down, just in case we need to tell someone about it.”

Louie shrugged. “Goose. Dressed in purple suit, I guess? He’s got black hair and this weirdly shaped mustache. Like lightning bolt, or something.” He rubbed his eyes. “Ugh, it feels all creepy crawly. I think I tried to reach you two, earlier. He commented that it’s interesting.”

“How did he even get inside in the first place?” Violet wondered aloud. “I thought adults aren’t allowed in if they aren’t escorting children.”

“Uncle Donald has gotten in by saying he’s here to pick us up, maybe he said something similar,” Dewey said. He sat by Louie’s side, purposefully pressing their shoulders together. “It’s good if the manager’s kicked him out, though.”

Violet fiddled with her bracelet in thought. “Maybe you should call your uncle or your mother,” she suggested. “For safety reasons.”

The triplets exchanged glances and nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best,” Huey said. “I’ll text Uncle Donald, since he’s the one who actually owns a car.”

Webby and Lena came back later, just as Huey finished up his conversation with Uncle Donald, bearing a cup of Pep for Louie. “Here you go,” Webby said, putting the cup by Louie’s hand. “Anyway, you can relax a bit. Lena checked earlier if there’s any weird magical signatures around, she didn’t get anything.”

“I mean, I got traces, but it’s probably from that creepy goose from earlier. The traces led outside though, so you’re all good,” Lena explained.

“Thanks.” Louie took the cup and sipped.

“Uncle Donald will pick us up soon,” Huey announced. “He said he’ll text if he’s arrived.”

“Cool, cool. Can we talk about something else now?” Louie said.

They were silent for a moment, then Violet spoke up, “Well, I was in the library a few days ago. I read something interesting in a book, …”

Louie settled in his seat and let Violet’s words wash over him.

* * *

It didn’t take long for Uncle Donald to arrive with Mom in tow. Funso’s manager, who had been pretty much leaving them alone but hovering near while glancing around warily, walked them to the edge of the pier and explained the situation to them.

“Goose in purple suit?” Uncle Donald repeated, speaking slowly to make sure the manager understood him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, purple suit. He has black hair and mustache looking like lightning bolts,” the manager confirmed. “He looked a bit too spiffy for our usual patrons, and he claimed he was looking after his niece, but he couldn’t point which kid. We kicked him out earlier, but you might want to look out.”

Uncle Donald looked around warily. “Yeah… yeah. Goose in purple suit. Thanks for the info.”

“Well,” Mom said as the manager went back to Funso’s and they were all seated in the car, “I guess we should all head back to the manor. We have board games at home so you guys could do that instead?”

“As long as it’s not game night again,” Huey muttered.

“I dunno, I think the last one was exciting,” Webby shrugged.

“What… happened in the last game night?” Violet asked.

“Do we even want to know?” Lena added.

“Oh, it was nothing! Just the family getting shrunk and we had to fight on Scroogopoly board.” Webby shrugged. “You know. Typical stuff.”

“Also, Scrooge gets crazy competitive so you might not want to get him involved. When it was just the three of us he got disturbingly happy at beating us in so many games…” Mom added.

“The last one was kind of my fault though. I was the one who shrunk Gyro and everything…” Louie grimaced and looked away, curling into himself in his seat.

The ride back to the manor was filled with their chatter, and Louie felt his frazzled nerves settle back into calmness. When Uncle Donald parked the car, he shooed the kids inside and took out his phone.

“Don, what are you doing? Let’s get inside,” Mom called from the doorway.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up soon,” Uncle Donald said, putting his phone by his ear. His voice was hushed when he talked, but Louie caught him saying Panchito and José’s name.

Louie ignored it in favor of going inside, idly chatting with Lena. He turned back to the door when he heard Uncle Donald stepping in. He stared at how Uncle Donald glanced outside warily, looking around, as if searching for something.

A part of him felt safer, with how Uncle Donald clearly looked after them. The other, for some reason, felt unsettled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've thought about the plot of this fic for a while now. this was the initial idea that gave birth to call upon the sea, but i've modified it a lot. originally i thought about making magica the villain in this story but i wanted to put caballero stuff so i went with felldrake instead. plus at this point magica's not that intimidating?  
> also, disclaimer: this is the first time i've tried writing panchito and josé. i don't speak spanish or portuguese, and i don't know if i'll end up writing something potentially problematic down the line. if i do, feel free to point it out to me so i can correct them, both with grammar stuff and portrayal stuff.  
> anyway, hope you enjoyed it even if it's short. feel free to comment below!


	2. The Arrival

_Feather one divided to three,_

_The emerald, the sapphire, and the ruby._

* * *

Panchito and José came like a storm, like they always did. Donald had told them to contact him if they’d reach Duckburg, but apparently they decided to just show up unannounced at the manor three days before their estimated arrival time, bowling Donald over in an excitable tumble of feathers and giggles, sweeping him into their signature secret handshake and leaving Donald breathless with it.

For a moment, the problem with the dream and his suspected Sheldgoose sighting was forgotten.

“Oh, geez,” Della spoke up, breaking the euphoria that swept over Donald whenever he reunited with Panchito and José. “Last time the handshake wasn’t that long. That seems to get more and more elaborate every time you boys meet up.”

“Della!” José greeted in delight, walking over to her and taking her hand to kiss, causing Della to bark out a surprised laughter. “It’s good to see you, you’re as beautiful as ever – “

Donald dragged him away by the collar. “I told you not to hit on my sister, you big palooka.”

Panchito took his chance and swooped in, hugging Della and getting a surprised squeal. He held Della by the shoulders and asked, “Della! Long time no see, _mi amiga_! How was the moon?”

“I told you _both_ not to hit on her!” This time, Donald grabbed Panchito and dragged.

“That was not hitting on her! That was greeting her!” José protested. The grin betrayed the hurt his tone would indicate.

“Oh, so I’m not pretty enough for you to hit on, José? Is that it?” Della teased.

“Of course not, Della, _minha querida_. You are prettier than any white rose – “

“José, oh my god. I will _drown_ you in the pool, I swear.”

“I thought Uncle Donald being put together with Panchito and José is the definition of chaos, but it turns out throwing Mom in makes things even more chaotic,” Dewey commented above the din.

“Oh no, no. If you want chaos, you throw Scrooge in, too,” Panchito told them. “You see, Scrooge – “

Uncle Scrooge stomped down the stairs angrily, yelling, “What is with the ruckus?! Tone it down, you kids!”

“ – is like that,” Panchito continued with a laugh.

Donald sighed. “Sorry, Uncle Scrooge.”

“And I thought you two were coming later this week?” Uncle Scrooge accused.

Donald scratched his cheek. “Uh, about that. I forgot to tell you that they might arrive sooner. Sorry, Uncle Scrooge.”

Uncle Scrooge huffed. “Fine, just keep it down. Gyro’s coming soon to show me some progress on something I asked him to make. I wanted you to see it too.” He glanced to Panchito and José. “I suppose you two can join as well.”

“When is he coming?” Della snatched Donald’s phone from his pocket to check the time.

“Now, if he’s on time,” Uncle Scrooge answered. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door. “Oh look, the lad’s on time. Louie, will you open the door for me?”

“Sure, but when Gyro’s around the manor weird things usually happen, so…” Louie shrugged and went to the door. Sure enough, when he opened it, Gyro was there, with Fenton right behind him with a case. Fenton waved at Louie with a cheerful smile, and Louie waved back with a hint of hesitation.

“Hello!” Fenton greeted. “I didn’t think it would be this crowded in the demonstration today. Is the bracelet meant for all of them, Mr. McDuck?”

“Not for these two, but yes,” Uncle Scrooge answered as he pointed at Panchito and José. “Do you have them?”

“And are you sure it’s safe? Because Gyro’s inventions have a weird tendency of getting weird.” Dewey squinted his eyes at the briefcase Fenton held.

“And that’s why we have the beta testing phase, blue nephew,” Gyro told him. He turned to Panchito and José. “Anyway, who are you?”

Panchito snatched his hand and shook it vigorously. “ _Hola_ , Donald’s friend! I am Panchito, a good friend of Donald’s, and this is our good friend José!”

José tipped his hat. “We are just visiting. Don’t mind us.”

Fenton’s eyes went wide. “Wait, was that Spanish?”

Panchito turned to him slowly. “… _si_ …?”

Fenton practically lit up and greeted them in Spanish, and Panchito and José both perked up and responded in kind. Donald strained to listen to them; he could understand Spanish and bits of Portuguese that José threw in the conversation, but he wasn’t fluent enough to follow the rapid-fire back-and-forth the three was engaged in. He was pretty sure they’d moved from introduction to… talking about telenovelas? What?

His hunch was proven true when Panchito gasped and turned to Donald. “Donald, you need to drive me to Fenton’s house! I need to meet his m’ma and discuss her _excellent_ taste in telenovelas!”

José gasped dramatically. “I have to argue that! _Patos de la Pasión_ dims in comparison to _Las Gemelas_ and I _will_ fight you on that.”

“Hey, that’s my M’ma’s favorite telenovela you’re dragging through the mud there,” Fenton interjected with a smile.

“My friend, I am not saying _Patos_ is bad. I’m simply saying _Gemelas_ is better.”

Donald rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. Telenovelas are basically all about a sexy woman seducing a rich man and having the man’s mom or sister or something arrange the woman to have an accident or poisoning or whatever. Throw in amnesia and getting put in the asylum and you’re gold. You just have to choose to have the sexy woman be an innocent woman who knows basically nothing about real life or a bad one who would do anything for cash, including ditching her perfectly fine and hot but poor boyfriend and seducing a wrinkly old man. It’s just a trope bingo.”

Panchito, José, and Fenton let out an offended gasp at the same time.

“ _How dare you_ – “

“ _Listen here –_ “

“ _Okay, first of all –_ “

Donald rolled his eyes at the onslaught the three directed at him. The edge of his beak pulled into a smile. Panchito and José were always so easy to rile up when it came to telenovelas, but he hadn’t expected Fenton to share that.

“How do you even know so much about telenovelas?” Dewey asked, visibly confused.

“They kept sitting me down to watch them,” Donald answered with a shrug.

Uncle Scrooge cleared his throat loudly, and the chatter ceased. He levelled an unamused stare at them. “As interesting as this thread of conversation is, I would like to see the invention, if you please.”

“Right!” Fenton grimaced in embarrassment and rushed to Gyro’s side, offering a sheepish smile when he glared. “Right, the bracelets are here.” He lifted the briefcase he had been holding and opened it to reveal three bracelets. The metallic material gleamed under the light that seeped into the manor, glinting off the small round glass at the middle of the interconnected metal squares.

“They’re only samples, and they’re all still in testing,” Gyro added. He took a bracelet and handed it to Uncle Scrooge. “As you requested, it has a built-in GPS system and can be used for communication as well as showing maps. It’s powered up by motion and body warmth and is heat proof, water proof, break proof, and can sustain deep sea pressures. I can assure you that this is a very strong bracelet.”

“And it also works as a way to provide light!” Fenton took another bracelet, shook it, and tapped at the glass twice. It lit up brightly, and he tapped it twice again. The light died. “I took liberty to put in the map of Duckburg here for demonstration, and – “ he pinched at the glass and flicked it to the air. Said map hovered brightly in bluish hologram. Fenton reached out and zoomed in and out of the map, turning expectantly to Uncle Scrooge.

Uncle Scrooge hummed in thought, weighing the bracelet in his hand. His gaze met Donald’s, and he gestured lightly. Understanding immediately, Donald walked closer to him and took the bracelet when Uncle Scrooge handed it to him.

“You’re probably the one with the best control among all of you. Can you try raising your magic a little?” Uncle Scrooge requested. When Donald gave him a look, he scoffed. “Oh, these are Gyro and Fenton. They’re not going to do anything with that information. And I know how you are with your friends, they probably already know what you can do.”

Donald glanced at the two scientists, who at this point was staring in confusion. He shrugged and called to the familiar push and pull that rested at the back of his mind and called it forth until his vision was overtaken by the sea blue. The soothing rush of his magic filled him to the brim, and he let out a breath.

In his hand, the bracelet fizzled painfully. He let go of it in reflex, squawking in surprise at the sudden sting of electricity it let out. The bracelet fell, already smoking before it even hit the floor, and the surge of magic receded.

“So it can’t handle magic, after all,” Scrooge mused.

“Well, yeah, tech and magic generally don’t mix,” Donald said.

Fenton let out a laugh. “Good one! Now let me check what was wrong with that bracelet, it shouldn’t have exploded like that.”

“It was magic, Fenton,” Donald deadpanned.

Fenton blinked at him, then laughed again, a little uncomfortably this time. When he realized no one else was laughing, he stopped abruptly. “Wait, was that not a joke?”

“No?”

“But… magic?” Fenton turned to Gyro. “Dr. Gearloose? Is this for real?”

Gyro just shrugged. “I learned early on that anything’s possible with this family. You either accept and adapt or you don’t.”

Fenton blinked at him, then looked down at the fallen bracelet. “…okay,” he hedged, taking the fallen bracelet. “Okay. Um, so we should make the bracelet… resistant? To magic?” he grimaced when he said _magic_ , and at this point Donald couldn’t blame him; he probably found the concept too foreign at this point.

Uncle Scrooge nodded. “And this is why I had you two come here. I don’t know how badly magic can damage your – “ he twirled his hand by his head as he searched for words “ – knick-knacks down at your lab. Here is likely safer.”

Gyro stared at the fried bracelet for a moment, clearly thinking. “We’ll need to record the magic, somehow. Try to measure it. Put a number on it somehow.”

“Oh, I can help,” Huey offered. “I’m pretty much free this afternoon, I can definitely help.”

“Yeah, I want to see how you measure magic, too,” Dewey added.

“Same. Wouldn’t it be kinda boring, though?” Louie glanced at Dewey in question.

“What? No! Magic stuff is never boring.”

“Oh, can I watch?” Webby asked. “I’ve wondered about that, too. How do you measure magic?”

“Wait, you kids have it too?” Fenton asked. Judging from his face, he was clearly overwhelmed.

“Webby doesn’t, we three do,” Huey explained. “We just never showed it to anyone. Mostly because there’s no reason to. Webby’s charms are super effective, though.” He looked around. “Can we do the measuring thing outside? Louie can probably risk doing stuff inside, but Dewey and I really shouldn’t use magic indoors. Something will catch fire.”

“…why?”

“Oh, I have fire, Dewey can make lightning, and Louie can control gold.”

Poor Fenton looked like he was had been blindfolded, spun, and told to hit a watermelon that turned out to be a hornet’s nest by then. “…what?”

“We’ll show you outside, it’ll be easier,” Dewey said, bouncing on his heels. His fingers were already twined with white-blue light, and Donald could see Fenton’s eyes zooming in to his hands.

He smiled and took Panchito and José’s hands. “You kids have fun! I’m going to catch up with Panchito and José. We’ll me in the houseboat if you need us.”

“Have fun, boys,” Della called out as she sent a teasing question through their bond, more or less asking if them catching up would also consist of them discussing steamy details. Donald sent her the mental equivalent of telling her to shove off and ignored her amusement.

The three of them entered the houseboat and settled at the dining table, and Donald stared at them. “Did your amulets suddenly appeared?”

José’s gaze went grim. “It did,” he answered, pulling out the square amulet, the green gemstone gleaming in the sunlight. Panchito mirrored the motion and pulled out his, a triangular amulet with red gemstone. “Where is yours, Donal’?”

Donald stood and went to his bedroom to retrieve the amulet. “Left it in my bedroom. It appeared the night we had that dream under my pillow.” He brought the amulet out and put it on the dining table, the circular blue gem glinting almost innocently. “I still don’t get why this just appeared.”

“The worst thing is that we couldn’t find Xandra,” Panchito huffed. “We tried going to places she might be in, but she wasn’t there.”

“The dream, the amulet appearing… I thought the power of the amulet infused with us when we got into that wizard puddle,” José said with a frown. “And the fact that Sheldgoose might be around in Duckburg is unsettling.”

“I tried looking for him, but I couldn’t find him.” Donald tapped the blue amulet absently, feeling the boost of power it gave his magic. “I don’t like that he went for Louie, too. I guess we’re lucky Funso’s manager got him out of there.”

“You can’t find him, Donal’,” José reminded.

“Well that creep’s nowhere near my kids. That’s a win,” Donald retorted. José hummed and nodded, acknowledging his words.

Panchito frowned. “Tell me what happened again.”

Donald sighed impatiently. “The kids went to Funso’s with their friends and split up there. Louie was alone and apparently Sheldgoose cornered him. I asked the kids again if anything happened, and they said he grabbed Louie by the elbow and he felt magic from him. Something that reminded Louie to space, he said something like it being big and dark and cold.” He leaned back at the chair. “And Dewey mentioned something about it feeling paralyzing.”

Panchito blinked, and in one of the rare moments in his life, he seemed truly disturbed. “That… sounds like Felldrake.”

“See why I’m glad he’s not near my kids?” Donald lifted a brow.

Panchito nodded. “I don’t want him anywhere near, either.”

“In any case, this only makes finding Xandra even more crucial.” José shifted in his seat. “Should we check the cabana? Do you think the girls know how to contact Xandra?”

“April, May, and June?” Donald asked. “I don’t think so. If we can’t contact her, I don’t think they do.”

Panchito let out a string of rapid-fire cursing in Spanish.

“Don’t let me catch you talk like that in front of the kids,” Donald threatened immediately.

“Aw, but I want to be the fun uncle who teaches them the things the straight-laced Uncle Donald would never tell them,” Panchito teased.

“And come on, Donal’, you’re the one with the worst vocabulary out of us three,” José added. “Ah, the things you had me hear when you were really angry…”

“Trust me, I’m tame compared to the others in the Navy,” Donald said dryly. “They meant it when they said sailors have potty mouths.”

“And Xandra taught you several words in multiple dead languages to add to your collection, too,” Panchito sighed. “Your kids will be livid once they start swearing if they know.”

“If they’re smart they will never do it in front of any of us,” Donald said. “But, back to the matter at hand…”

The three of them fell into thoughtful silence, the gears in their brains turning. They were resourceful on their own rights, but Xandra had always been the best one when it came to assembling a plan, unless it was something that needed out-of-the-box thinking like José and Panchito’s telenovela ploy. It probably came with the territory, with her being an immortal and the goddess of adventure and all.

“What if we wear the amulets and activate the magic?” José ventured. “Would that signal to her that we need her help?”

“That will tell Felldrake where we are, too,” Panchito pointed out. “If he’s near and we don’t have Xandra around, we’re finished.”

“But… we can seal him again, with the amulets here. Right?” Donald asked uncertainly. “Last time, it was us who did the sealing.”

“Felldrake would know we’ll want to do that,” Panchito said, shaking his head.

“But we need Xandra and we need her soon,” José argued grimly. “Do you have any other idea? Because if you do, I’m listening.”

Panchito fell silent, and eventually he sighed. “No,” he admitted reluctantly. “Should we do it now then?”

“Yeah.” Donald reached to his amulet, but paused. “Um, I think I should tell you that the triplets and Della all can sense magic, sort of. So we’ll have to be ready to explain about the magic, later. Plus Caballero stuff, if Xandra appeared.”

“That’s okay, I’m fine with them knowing.” Panchito took his amulet, and José did the same. When Donald didn’t, they both stared at him.

“Donal’?” José prodded.

Donald frowned. “Shut up, I’m trying to think about how I’m going to explain the Caballero stuff to my family.”

José blinked. “They don’t know yet?”

“No? Look, I didn’t think there was any chance of us having to face Felldrake again.”

“We’ll help you explain later,” Panchito assured, and let the amulet dangle around his neck before Donald could say anything else. José followed suit, as did Donald, with a sigh.

The amulet had always provided a boost to his magic. The push and pull of the sea rose to a roar, and the magic grew lighter and heavier and the same time, expanding its reach – Donald could feel the pool water starting to respond to his magic the way seawater did, but he knew it would never be the same.

But with all three Caballeros wearing the amulet, the change was visible. Soft light enveloped them – red with Panchito, blue with Donald, and green with José, corresponding with the colors of the gemstones adoring their respective amulets. The hum of something powerful that could almost contain supernovas and black holes breathed power into their feathers, and something inside them stirred. It had been so long that they’d almost forgotten how connected they were to one another, how in sync.

It wasn’t the borderline telepathic bond Donald shared with Della. It wasn’t even the way the triplets’ magic linked so closely to each others’. It was more subtle, but it was undeniably there, with the way they could think so similarly and feed off each others’ energy ever since they first laid eyes on one another.

They only needed to share a glance to understand each other. With barely any effort at all, they raised their magic. Donald’s deep-and-waves mixed with Panchito’s exuberant music and whistles and chatter and laughter and José’s soft guitar plucks among distant jazz and whispered words, growing louder and louder in a crescendo as their magic was amplified by the amulet.

They held the chaotic symphony for a moment, hoping it was enough of a signal to get Xandra’s attention. Then something touched the swirling magic, something big and cold and twined with whispers of a million dying stars, giddy and greedy and _hungry_. The three of them pulled back on their magic in reflex, eyes blown wide as they stared at each other.

“Felldrake,” Donald breathed.

Panchito nodded as he swallowed. “He found us.” He grimaced. “And so soon, too.”

“It was a risk we took.” José took a deep breath. “If our gamble worked, Xandra would be here at any – “

His words was cut off when something landed on the foredeck of the boat with enough force to sent all three of them tumbling. Donald scrambled to his feet and ran up to the deck, ignoring the sway of the boat, his friends hot on his heels. He skidded to a halt at the top of the stairs, getting himself bowled over as the three of them fell and fell on top of one another. He ignored the pain in favor of looking up to see the familiar raven locks and golden armor.

Xandra, obviously having just landed on the deck, huffed. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “Do you know how hard it is to find you guys? I’ve been trying to reach you for days!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look, the three caballeros share one single braincell and that's that, you can fight me on this
> 
> i hadn't written a lot this week, so progress was a bit slow, but the next chapter is already partly written so that's good at least? and the plot's been unraveling slowly, too. i kind of want to write longer chapters but it's always so much easier and feels a lot more natural to write shorter chapters at the start, so i'm just hoping it will get longer as the plot unravels.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoyed it.


	3. The Explanation

_Feather one divided to two,_

_The sky and the sea, horizons blue._

* * *

The sudden rising magic gave Della pause from her inspection over the plane. It felt strong, and pure, and familiar and yet not at the same time, and – was that _Donald_? But that wasn’t right. It felt like the sea, but it felt like _more_. Like it wasn’t just the deep and waves rising to the sky, it was also the lakes screaming and the rivers racing, each drop of the rain plummeting.

And it rose with something else. Something loud and active and expectantly excited, along with something calmer, whispering and teasing and gently nudging. It reminded her of Panchito and José, and that was something else to make her pause. Did Panchito and José have magic? She’d never feel magic on them, at least not the way she felt dormant magic breathing a hint of something that should be outside the realm of possibility the way Donald or her children felt like.

The magic kept rising and rising and getting _louder_. Della dug and tried to reach Donald, but it seemed Della was just far enough for their magic not to be able to reach each other. At least, not without Della doing the magical equivalent of screaming into a mic with the speaker set to top volume.

The screaming magic kept rising until it felt like a physical weight pressing her chest, making it hard to breathe. She forced in a breath and ran, ignoring the way she wheezed in need for air, toward Donald’s boat. Even closer, she couldn’t reach him; his magic screamed too loudly for her to twine around and project questions. There had to be something wrong, or he wouldn’t have used his magic as what essentially was a beacon. She gasped in air when she felt a faint, distant feeling of decaying nebulas and dying stars secondhand from her connection with Donald’s magic.

The pressing and the flaring magic disappeared abruptly, and Della yelped when she stumbled from the surprise. She looked up, staring at the direction of the pool, and caught the side of something gold slicing through the air and landing on the foredeck. She ran again to get to Donald, her panic feeling like bile at her throat.

She skidded to a halt at the edge of the pool, reaching to Donald and frantically asking if he was okay. Donald sent her a flurry of reassurance and an apology for making her worry, and she breathed, finally feeling hints of relief in her veins. She looked up at the boat and stilled, beak hanging open.

A woman clad in gold stood at the foredeck, her shiny black hair blown by the wind, gesturing animatedly at the pile that was Donald, Panchito, and José on top of one another.

“It’s so hard to reach you! I mean, I _did_ decide to look for Donald first because you’re the one who’s hardest to contact, but I never would have thought Duckburg would be swirling with so much magical aura that it’s downright impossible to locate you. What _is_ inside this house? It’s hard to feel your magic, and you’re in front of me, _and_ you’re wearing the amulets! I even had to ask Storkules where you might be! He would’ve come here if Zeus hadn’t given him chores!”

“Hey, what’s going on?!”

Dewey’s voice startled her, and drew the woman in gold’s attention. Della turned to see the triplets, Webby, Uncle Scrooge, and both Gyro and Fenton approach, the kids practically running and tumbling over to get to the boat as quickly as they could.

“What’s wrong? Is Uncle Donald okay?” Huey asked as he stopped by Della’s side.

“Hey, who’s the lady?” Louie added, squinting at the woman.

Said woman blinked, gasped, and jumped to the sky with more speed and grace than Della would have expected. She landed soundlessly in front of the triplets and practically smushed Dewey’s face in her hands. “Ohmigosh! Are you Donald’s kids? You look just like him!” She glanced at Huey and Louie with sparkling eyes and grinned wide. “And you’re color-coded into red, blue, and green, too! Donald, did you purposefully dress them like Caballeros?”

“No, they like the colors,” Donald answered from the houseboat. “And they’re my nephews. Get off him, Xandra!”

The woman – Xandra, apparently – complied and straightened. “They’re like little tiny you!” She turned to Webby, who looked like she was trying to decide between greeting her and punching her in the face then run away. “ _You_ don’t look like Donald. Who might you be?”

“I’m, um, the boys’ friend?” Webby offered.

Della cleared her throat and stepped in to stand between Xandra and the kids. “Excuse me, but _I’m_ their mother. The boys’ mother, I mean. Sorry, but who are you again?”

“Oh, so _you’re_ Della! Donald talked a lot about you when we were adventuring together. Well, more like complained, but same difference.” Xandra took Della’s hand and shook it vigorously. “I’m Xandra, the goddess of adventure. Didn’t you go to the moon, once? I heard about it, but I had my plate full from dealing with other things so I couldn’t visit.”

Della stared. There was so much information to parse from that, and in the end Della could only let out an uncertain “Uhhh…”

Xandra seemed to understand immediately that Della was basically as lost as a fly in a maze, and she let go of her hand, whirling to glare at Donald. “Okay, did you not tell her who I am? Or any of your family? For shame, Donald. I chose you and you didn’t even mention me.”

“ _Chose_?” Uncle Scrooge repeated, finally speaking up.

“Yes?” Xandra confirmed with a raised brow. “You know, as my champion? Along with Panchito and José, of course.”

Uncle Scrooge looked like he had been forced to swallow a lemon. “But… I’ve been adventuring my whole life.”

“Oh, yeah, and you’re famous for that.” Xandra shrugged. “But you’re not my champion. There’s a difference between adventuring and taking treasures willy nilly.”

The whole lemon turned into a bottle full of lemon concentrate, judging from how Uncle Scrooge looked. He looked about ready to debate Xandra then and there, but Xandra turned back to Donald and asked, “Seriously, you didn’t talk to them about me? Or about Felldrake, or the Caballero business? They have the right to know, Donald, they might get involved in some of the things you’ll have to deal with. And seriously, you didn’t mention _me_?”

“Okay, in my defense, you were gone and I didn’t know how to contact you.” Donald walked the ramp to them. “I mean, it wasn’t like we didn’t try.”

“We’ve tried many things,” Panchito added. “We ran around some sites looking for you and you weren’t there. We’ve tried yelling for you and even setting an altar, too, in case it can be used to at least nudge at you.”

“And don’t forget the smoke signal we raised in that one mountain in Mexico before we went to Duckburg,” José said, leaning on his umbrella.

Xandra hissed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Okay, that one’s on me. But seriously, you’re like BFFs with an actual goddess, I would think that’s worthy of being mentioned.”

“I’m friends with a lot of people, Xandra, you’re not special.”

“Ouch. I don’t even know if that’s humbling or insulting.”

Huey cleared his throat and held up a hand, as if he was in a classroom trying to get attention from Xandra. “I’m sorry, but I have a few questions. Ma’am, what exactly is your relationship with Uncle Donald, what do you mean you used to go on adventures together, and I’ve never heard of a goddess of adventure before, no offense?”

Xandra clicked her tongue and folded her arms, glaring at Donald. “See, Donald, this is why you should have at least mentioned me. I’m a minor goddess and not everyone knows I even exist, and at this point it’s hard enough to keep my domain without having to pause every ten minutes to explain who I am.” She turned to Huey and smiled. “Like I said, I’m a goddess of adventure. I’m not the most impressive goddess and certainly not the strongest, but I’m presiding over adventures. I chose your uncle Donald, along with Panchito and José, to be my champions in fighting against a great evil their ancestors sealed lifetimes ago. So I guess my relationship with Donald is… in a way, he and Panchito and José represent me in your world.”

“That still doesn’t really explain anything, but what about the adventures part?” Dewey questioned.

“I’m more concerned about the fighting against great evil part,” Louie said.

“Why? Uncle Donald’s a decent fighter. The represent part is what worries me the most,” Webby argued.

Xandra sighed and turned to Donald again. “Okay, you’d better tell them everything. Especially since Felldrake is back. He’s going to go for you three, that’s for sure.”

“Uhhh, excuse me? I don’t want to interrupt, but can someone explain what’s happening here?”

Della turned to see Fenton holding up a hand like a boy trying to get a teacher’s attention in a classroom, looking lost and confused, and empathized wholeheartedly. She turned to stare at Zandra, Donald, José, and Panchito. “Actually, yeah. Someone should explain everything to us, and Donald, the explanation better be good.” She narrowed her eyes at him and sent a silent threat from their shared bond. Donald grimaced as a response.

“Well, the short version is that our ancestors were chosen by Xandra also to fight this evil sorcerer, Felldrake, who imprisoned Xandra inside a map book,” Panchito began. “The seal broke and we sealed him again. Yay us!”

Gyro stared blankly for a moment. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” he hedged slowly, “but as I understand it, it’s a magical matter on top of divine matter on top of ancestral matter – so decades old, at least? Is that it?”

“Uh,” Panchito glanced at José, who shrugged. “Si?”

Della turned to Gyro just in time to see the proverbial gate slam shut and his expression went blank in an instant. “Okay. That’s it. That’s my limit. That’s way above my paygrade and I’m not touching that with a ten-foot pole. Good day, Mr. McDuck, I’m going back to the lab.” He pivoted and walked away, yelling at Fenton, “Come on, Crackshell-Cabrera, we have a magic-proof GPS bracelets to make.”

“Oh, right!” Fenton glanced back to the rest of them and awkwardly waved. “Um, bye? See you later?”

“Okay, see you,” Huey waved back. “I’ll text you the details of Uncle Donald’s explanation later if you want?”

“Oh! Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Huey!” With that, he ran to catch up with Gyro.

Dewey crossed his arms. “Well, Uncle Donald? Like Mom said, the explanation better be good.”

Donald sighed. “Look, this is a long story to tell. Can we get inside to get more comfortable first, maybe?”

Uncle Scrooge cleared his throat. “It’s a reasonable suggestion,” he said. “Let’s get inside. I’ll have Mrs. Beakley prepare tea for all of us.”

* * *

Della stared at Donald as he fidgeted in his seat, looking like he was trying to hide between Panchito and José as Xandra, like a hyperactive little puppy at a new playground, walked around the room inspecting each corner and every inch of the wall, every single decoration and any magical objects that happened to be lying about.

“Well, Donald?” Uncle Scrooge prompted. “We’d like to hear that story of yours.”

Donald fidgeted again. He seemed to settle a little when Panchito put a hand on his shoulder and José on his knee, but not by much. He did settle when Della felt a surprising flare of what felt like loud whistling and soft whispers, the rumbling sea calming underneath. Donald took a deep breath and began to talk.

Della paid half a mind to his words and put the other half to his magic. She let their magic connect as Donald talk, and she could feel him immediately; the nervousness that he felt for his family. Though it was more because he didn’t want them to worry, Della felt.

She let her anger bleed into their bond and swallowed her satisfaction when she saw him wince. She had the right to feel worry for her own brother, and of course she’d be worried if she knew he was fighting an evil sorcerer who managed to trap a deity inside an atlas. Who wouldn’t?

Donald’s annoyance rose at that. Something about it felt accusing. _And this is why I don’t want you to know. You worry too much; I’m fine_ , Della translated.

Della blazed her own back in his face. _Look, the point isn’t that you’re fine now. You could have ended up not being fine and I don’t want to hear news about you dying without even knowing why._

Donald scowled and forcibly withdrew his magic. All of a sudden, the loss of ocean waves under sunny sky made Della felt coldly lonely. She pulled her magic back and settled to sit quietly, glancing at her family.

Uncle Scrooge gave a great sigh and pinched between his eyes. “Let’s see if I understand this correctly. You inherited Coot’s cabana, found those amulets you’re wearing right now, found out you’re this so-called three Caballeros that the goddess of adventure chose, and decided to just dive headfirst into it despite having been chased by the minotaur?”

“Oh, we didn’t dive headfirst!” José assured. “Although we did dive in eventually. At the time it felt right to go along with what Xandra said.”

“I’m a persuasive speaker,” Xandra declared smugly.

“And we did feel connected in a way,” Panchito added with a shrug. “Like José said, it just felt right.”

“What sounds right about fighting a great evil with little to no preparation and training?” Uncle Scrooge chased. His eyes were glued at Donald when he said, “You could have died.”

Donald threw out his hands in frustration. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I’m fine!”

“Have you considered that if you’re the only one thinking that way, maybe you’re not exactly _right_?” Louie drawled.

Donald let out a gusty, exasperated sigh. “Alright, look. I know it doesn’t sound great, but I’m still alive, and I’m _fine_.” He let his gaze land on Louie, then Huey and Dewey. “Okay? I’m alright, and I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Are you sure about that?” Webby spoke up, and they all looked at her. “You haven’t explained why Xandra came and why you three are here together. Don’t people usually only do that when things get bad?”

“Donal’, Panchito, and I have been planning to go on a trip together for a while,” José explained.

“That doesn’t really explain Xandra,” Dewey objected. “Deities don’t just visit without any reason.”

“Storkules came here to be my _roommate_ ,” Donald pointed out. He paused, scratching his cheek awkwardly. “But he might be different from the others. He’s kinda a weird case for deities, I think.”

“Well, I’m here because Felldrake is regaining his power,” Xandra answered lightly, like she told them she visited a mall and found a cool tea set or something. The three men let out a simultaneous sigh – Panchito slumped in his seat, shaking his head, while José facepalmed. Donald simply closed his eyes and sent a defeated glare at Xandra. The deity simply stared back without a speck of guilt.

“Who’s regaining his what?” Della blurted. “I thought you said you sealed him.”

“We did, but the seal might be weakening,” José admitted. “When we sealed him we wanted to put him inside the staff he inhabited again, but Sheldgoose interrupted and Felldrake got sealed inside him instead.”

“It’s been over a decade, so it makes sense if they’ve done something to weaken the seal,” Xandra said. “Last time, Felldrake managed to get the amulets to break the seal altogether, but that’s mostly because they found a crack in our security they can use to steal the amulets and breaking it is the easiest way to break the seal.” Xandra crossed her arms and looked around. “There are some magical artefacts able to weaken the seal. I won’t be surprised if there’s one lying around here. This house is a mess of magical aura.”

Donald perked up. “Speaking of the manor. Uncle Scrooge, is there any way you can make sure the manor is safe?”

“Magically?” Uncle Scrooge clarified. Upon Donald’s nod, he pursed his beak in distaste – apparently, he still disliked magic when it came to objects instead of people. “I’ll see what I can do. Will that sorcerer come here?”

“I don’t know, but just in case,” Donald answered.

“We’re also sure that the goose that bumped into Louie in Funso’s is Sheldgoose,” Panchito admitted. Della’s eyes widened, and her hand shot out to reach Louie’s. The duckling gripped her hand as he curled in to himself, looking uncomfortably around, while Huey’s hand shot to his shoulder and Dewey leaned in, eyes darting at the door and window in alert. Webby, bless her heart, had already brandished her grappling hook.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Donald said, but Della could tell he was just lying to reassure them – she didn’t need their magic to twine around each others’ to know, she’d grown up with him and she knew what he looked like when he was trying to reassure people. Donald seemed to realize the sharpness of her gaze against him and sent her a quick look, then continued, “But the fact is that now Sheldgoose, and maybe Felldrake too, knows what Louie looks like. Maybe it’s best to play it safe.”

“But if he’s around and he knows what Louie look like, then how can they be safe?” Della argued.

“They will be. I’ll make sure of that,” Donald said. “You kids just stay in the manor for a while – Uncle Scrooge too, and you too, Della. We’ll ward the manor and make sure it’s safe, then Panchito, José, and I plus Xandra will go out and find Felldrake.” He glanced at Xandra. “Right? Is that good?”

“We need to find him as soon as possible,” Xandra argued. “We can go now.”

“He knows we’re here,” Donald said with a frown. “He might come. I’m not risking my family, Xandra.”

“Look, you said there are many magical objects here,” José interjected when Xandra opened her mouth to protest. “Having a stronghold where Felldrake cannot come in like the cabana would be useful, yes?”

“And if we can make sure this place is secure, we can risk him coming here instead of having to hunt him,” Panchito added. “What is it that you people say? Two birds, one stone?”

Xandra frowned. “But if we get him now – “

Donald sighed harshly. “He’d _expect it_ ,” he said with grim finality. “He’d been looking for us, and he found out where we are. I’m _not_ risking the kids, Xandra, and that’s final.”

Something, an ugly thing that had been swirling and knotting up in Della’s stomach, worrying over her kids, loosened. Something else took its place when she took a look at Donald – he seemed too different from the image she had in her mind. Her caring brother, one who was so careful and protective when it came to his family but so, so very reckless with himself, hadn’t been one to get stern like that. He caved under Della’s pokes and invitations to adventures, Uncle Scrooge’s pushes to go on adventures, the kids’ well-crafted puppy-eyed looks that they expertly timed, and Webby’s ramblings. His eyes shone when he got interested in something – naval vessels, intriguing puzzles, the occasional treasures.

But this Donald, the one who said he was a part of the group called the Three Caballeros, who went on their own adventures against a great and ancient evil? Who stood with weary but steady gaze, staring down a deity as he protected his family, who took the lead and was filled to the brim with undeniable confidence? The Donald whose magic still felt like the deepest ocean and the crashing waves, but also of rushing river, tranquil lake, and falling rain at the same time? He was a different Donald than Della was used to. She’d seen glimpses of this one as they grew up together, but he was never… _this_.

Had he changed so much in the ten years she was gone? Did she even know who he was anymore? Or was it her who was never observant enough to see who Donald truly was underneath the anger and bad luck and what she had, growing up, seen as a party pooper who stopped her from having fun?

She couldn’t tell which was scarier.

“You know I don’t do well with sitting still, Donald,” Xandra said, and it took Della’s attention back to the present. “Hunting down Felldrake would be much more productive anyway.”

“How? Running about trying to locate him?” Donald snorted. “Xandra, we both know that’s one of the reasons how Sheldgoose managed to get the amulets last time.”

“He and Felldrake also almost trapped us,” José pointed out. “Not to mention they tried to kill us multiple times. They don’t care if they’ll bowl over other people.” He very gracefully ignored Uncle Scrooge’s squawk at the phrase _tried to kill multiple times_.

“Having this place warded would also have benefits,” Panchito added. “After all, no one’s stepped foot in the cabana for years. We don’t know if Ari is still keeping up with maintenance after we moved to that mansion.”

“Besides, judging from how quick he found us we know Felldrake is nearby,” José said. “It would make much more sense to fortify defenses here and be ready when he strikes, no?”

Xandra glared. “Okay, now you’re just ganging up on me, that’s not fair.”

Panchito and José shared a look and shrugged. “Donal’ wants to make sure his family is safe. The Three Caballeros stay together.” He tipped his hat at Donald when the duck threw him a grateful smile, and Panchito grinned at the sailor.

“As you should be,” Xandra grudgingly admitted. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. We ward the manor and form a stronghold here, then we go out to get Felldrake. We fall back here if things get hairy.”

“That sounds like a solid plan to me,” Huey commented quietly, mostly for himself, his brother, and Webby to hear.

“Being stuck in the manor doesn’t sound fun though,” Dewey sulked.

“I’m sure we can come up with something, like… um…” Webby glanced at Louie, silently asking for help.

Louie came in quickly. “Ottoman Empire marathon, for one,” he mused. “Maybe a scavenger hunt? Webby, you’ve been here practically your whole life, I’m sure you know some places where you can hide, like, marbles or something.”

“You do that, I’ll stay longer in the bin,” Uncle Scrooge said.

“Uh, it’ll be safer for all of you to stay here,” Donald protested.

Uncle Scrooge opened his mouth to protest but stopped at Donald’s hard look. He sighed. “Fine, as long as you can make sure the place is safe.” He looked away, grumbling, “Curse me kilts. I thought Magica would be the only one I’ll have to deal with.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m sure Felldrake isn’t interested in your dime,” Donald assured.

“Oh, he can try taking it from me,” Uncle Scrooge said, eyes blazing. “I’ll beat him to death with my cane before I let him get away with it.”

Donald let out an amused snort at that. “Sure, Uncle Scrooge.”

Della stared, silent. Donald met her eyes, questioning, but he didn’t let his suddenly-foreign water magic twine into Della’s sky. Della swallowed her discomfort and gave him a reassuring smile, watching him shrug and turn to chat with Panchito, José, and the unfamiliar goddess, quietly wondering if this was how Donald had always been or if he had grown into a stranger when they separated.

She missed the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor della's shocked at donald's magic change. cause like his thing used to be just the ocean but with the amulet's boost he can do basically any body of water.  
> (panchito and josé's magic will be revealed later. they both have sound-related magic, though.)


	4. The Separation

_Twined by fate, never apart._

* * *

The hubbub around the manor was different from usual. The common hubbub was chaotic and uncontrolled; children laughing and adults yelling and the occasional explosions. This one was focused chatters and the adults running about, driving metal stakes carved with arcane symbols into the ground, multicolored sparks lighting up the forest.

Panchito drove the last stake into the earth and ran back to the manor. “It’s done,” he announced.

“Alright, then get here and we can get the show going,” Xandra said. As the Three Caballeros stood around a humongous stake by the big golden dollar sign in front of the manor – carved with a collection of even more complex arcane symbols – she stepped back. “Okay, you can start charging the stakes now.”

Huey stared with keen eyes, committing how the three of them flared their magic – Uncle Donald’s underwater thermal vents was bubbling like crazy, heated up above boiling point. Panchito’s heat reminded him of something buzzing underneath his skin, warming up his throat and making him dizzy, exhilarated limbs sore and warm after dancing, while José’s had the same buzzing and dizzying quality though it also reminded him of waning warmth of setting sun. Above the heat, their magic blazed, loud in a way only magic could be; Uncle Donald’s ocean roared and he could almost feel rivers and lakes and rain roaring along with it, and Panchito’s party music and José’s smooth jazz mixed and twined around Uncle Donald’s sea, and the three reached an equilibrium that sang a surprising harmony.

The magic dove into the humongous stake and blitzed; red, blue, and green mixing into brilliant white that simmered inside the stake and shot out to the four cardinal points, where the smaller stakes had been driven into the earth.

Something crackled, an electrifying sensation that reminded Huey of Dewey’s magic – but different. Instead of the thunderous lightning, this was pure, unadulterated magic sparking and humming. Huey looked up and saw the four stakes had sent up a line of white, each crackling with red, blue, and green, and the four light line met at the sky. The light then slammed back to the humongous stake the Caballeros stood around.

The crackling intensified for a moment, then settled. A mirrorlike sheen glinted off the sky, then disappeared.

Xandra let out a breath. “And the ward is complete,” she murmured.

“It’s weak on the eastern side,” José said with a frown. “The one around the cabana is much stronger overall.”

“It can’t be helped. It’s the one farthest away from the central stake.” Xandra shrugged. “Considering it’s either this or ruining the manor to get the stake inside, we’ll just have to pay more attention to the eastern ward.” She looked eastward. “Besides, the ward is different.”

“Different how?” Huey blurted before he could stop himself.

The Caballeros and Xandra turned to him, as if only realizing he was there. Behind him, Webby bounced on her heels, not bothering to cover her curiosity. “Yes, different how?” she asked.

“Well,” Xandra started, “the cabana’s ward has been around for decades, for one. And it’s made differently. It’s stronger because it used some of the old Caballeros’ blood to make.”

“Uh, ow?” Huey winced.

“It didn’t use much. Only three drops each,” Xandra assured. “And there was something about that land that made it easier to raise a ward and keep it up. And it gets stronger the longer it’s up. This hill doesn’t have it, but,” she turned to the stake in satisfaction, “having a goddess carve the base of the spell for the ward certainly helps.”

“Is… that it?” Webby prodded.

Xandra shrugged. “More or less! But this one here isn’t as stable as the regular wards. It’s weaker than regular wards, too, but it should strengthen in time. It’s probably all the energy from the magical objects here interfering with the ward’s power and stability.” She frowned. “I swear, it’s a miracle nothing’s exploding yet.”

“We do have some incidents,” Huey admitted. “A golden statue came to life, one time.”

Xandra whirled on Uncle Donald, and he groaned. “I know, I’ll ask Uncle Scrooge if there’s a better way to store the magical objects later.” He straightened up and looked to the direction of the town. “Should we start searching, then? The ward is done, right?”

“We need to bring our weapons though,” José pointed out. “I don’t know if I want to risk not arming ourselves.”

“Wait, but our weapons are in the cabana,” Panchito gasped, suddenly looking panicked.

“That’s alright, I brought your weapons for you,” Xandra said, and produced a cutlass, a broadsword, and a spear pretty much out of nowhere. She handed the cutlass to José, the sword to Uncle Donald, and the spear to Panchito. “I’ve been carting them around, just in case you need them. But I don’t have your armor, so if you want them we’ll have to go to the cabana.”

“We should be fine without it,” Uncle Donald said as he tested the sword’s weight. “The amulet can protect us.”

“Wait, why would you need armor?” Huey asked, alarmed. “Uncle Donald, how dangerous is this going to be?”

Uncle Donald paused and looked at him for a split second, and Huey felt his alarm grow. He knew that look well. It was the look Uncle Donald wore when he knew something bad was going to happen but didn’t want him or his brothers to get worried, and he was thinking about what he wanted to say instead.

“It’s going to be okay, Huey,” Uncle Donald settled, a reassuring smile on his beak. “We’ve done this before.”

Huey stared uncertainly. “I don’t want you out there if you’re going to get hurt, Uncle Donald,” he said.

“Yeah, and also, if it’s that dangerous maybe you should get the armor?” Webby suggested.

Uncle Donald knelt by them and put a hand on their shoulders. “Kids, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ve done this before and we all went home in one piece. But I’ll probably need you two to keep Dewey from going insane from having to spend a long time in manor grounds, so help me on that, okay?”

Huey bit his cheek. He knew Uncle Donald was distracting him, trying to shift the attention to Dewey’s restlessness. He’d gone to run about the grounds, running around the fountain at the back, with Mom floating by his side and Louie following them. Louie said he only wanted to make sure they wouldn’t do anything stupid, but Huey doubted that since Louie was already recording a video on Dewey’s hijinks.

Still, Uncle Donald had a point. Huey sighed and nodded. “Come home safe?” he asked instead.

“Be home for dinner,” Webby added, and Huey could feel the steel in her tone. _Come home before curfew, or else_.

Uncle Donald smiled and nodded. “Of course! I’ll be home safe for dinner,” he said. He pulled them into a brief hug. “I’m going now. If the others asked, tell them I’m out looking for Felldrake, okay?”

“Okay,” Huey agreed. He watched as Uncle Donald turned away and walked briskly with Panchito, José, and Xandra to the gate, a ripple appearing in the air when they passed through the ward. He could hear snippets of their conversation – something about preferring to go on foot to check the area around the manor instead of using an atlas. There was something hard in Uncle Donald’s gaze that Huey was unfamiliar with. It felt out of place.

Webby nudged him. “Hey. You okay?”

Huey huffed. “I don’t like this,” he admitted.

“Me neither,” Webby said. “Come on, let’s go inside. Uncle Donald made a point when he said Dewey would be stressed out.”

Huey shook his head, ignoring Webby’s words. “I’m worried, Webs. From what I felt last time Louie got across that guy, Felldrake is a really big bad news.”

Webby looked at the gate where Uncle Donald and his group had disappeared past and blew out a breath. She didn’t say anything, but Huey could almost feel her agreement all the same. She silently took him by the wrist and pulled him gently into the manor, and this time, he complied.

She brought him to the yard, where they last saw Dewey, Louie, and Mom. The three of them were still there, and after Huey and Webby told them Uncle Donald had gone already, they fell into worried silence. Eventually, Dewey grew restless again and started sparking, his magic reflecting his mental state.

“I’m sure Donald will be fine,” Mom assured, though there was a slight waver in her voice. “I mean, he did say they sealed this Felldrake fellow before. I’m sure they can do it again.”

“It’s kind of hard to imagine Uncle Donald doing it though,” Louie mused.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a dork,” Dewey agreed.

Mom shook her head in amusement. “Hey, watch that. He may be a dork, but he’s _our_ dork. Show some respect.”

“And also, he’s a great adventurer on his own right,” Webby added. “I’ve read a lot about what he’d done!”

Mom grimaced. “Oh, yeah, he’s definitely saved my life many times. I mean, I’ve saved his life too, but sometimes I wonder if he has a danger alarm built in.”

Huey felt himself relax at that. “Oh, then that’s good. He should be able to keep himself out of danger.”

“Er, right.” For some reason, Mom didn’t look entirely convinced, but Huey decided to shelf that for later.

They fell into silence again, more comfortable this time. Eventually, Dewey grew bored and started sparking magic again, experimenting to see how much he could zap the earth without leaving any sort of mark behind. It drew Huey’s attention, as it did Louie’s and Webby’s, and soon the four of them were debating about how much output Dewey could let out.

The debate stopped when Uncle Scrooge approached, Gyro and Fenton on tow. Huey perked up immediately. A few days had passed since they last visited, and he was curious about the development on the GPS bracelet.

“Hello!” Fenton greeted, ever the friendly scientist. “What’s going on over there?”

“We want to see how much I can zap the ground without leaving marks,” Dewey said. “Like, I want to see how weak or how strong it can be.”

Gyro stopped by Fenton’s side, humming. “Measure the electrical output and write down the results. The only thing separating scientific pursuit and goofing around is putting the results on paper.”

Dewey made a suspiciously interested sound. Huey made a mental note to keep an eye on him.

“Where’s Donald?” Uncle Scrooge asked.

“Out to find Felldrake,” Huey answered. “Are Dr. Gearloose and Fenton here to do more demonstration?”

“Ehh, sort of. We can’t really test the bracelets without someone who can do magic. I thought Donald can help with it like last time, but he’s not here.” Uncle Scrooge said with a shrug. “You two can start now. What have you accomplished with the bracelets?”

“We managed to measure the magical current and predict how it interferes with the bracelet’s system, so we think we found a way to circumvent it,” Gyro began. “It should be fully functional and safe to use now.”

“Here, we can test it now.” Fenton took out a bracelet. “Anyone want to be a volunteer here?”

No one was surprised when Dewey’s hand shot up enthusiastically. Mom frowned, though, and asked, “This is safe, right? It won’t blow up or anything?”

Fenton laughed crisply. “Don’t worry! If it failed it would probably fizzle a bit, but it won’t hurt anyone.”

Mom hummed and nodded. At her express permission, Fenton helped Dewey put on the bracelet. Once it was fastened, Fenton breathed and shifted on his heels. “Okay, now for the hard part. Dewey, can you try using magic?”

Dewey tilted his head, staring at the bracelet, and blue-white sparks wreathed his fingers. His heat spiked, just as it always did whenever he used magic. This time, the bracelet didn’t fizzle.

Fenton cheered. “Yes! It works!” He handed Huey, Louie, and Webby their own bracelets, and he kneeled down to the ground. “Do you have the bracelets fastened? Okay, try using magic – great! We’re all good on that front, so let me show you how to use the bracelets…”

Huey listened to Fenton’s instructions, keeping track of what was happening around him on the meantime. He could see Mom leaning to Gyro on his side, gesturing to her wrist, and Gyro shaking his head and holding up four fingers, and Mom huffing.

Fenton had just started to show them how to track each other using the GPS system, assuring Dewey that more upgrades would be done when he complained it wasn’t color-coded, when a sudden tension in the air grabbed Huey by the neck. He wasn’t the only one feeling it; he could feel Dewey and Louie’s alarm in their heat. Even Webby and Fenton, magicless as they were, looked around with deeply uncomfortable look in their eyes.

Something reverberated and shattered, and Huey _felt_ it more than he heard it. He looked up. The mirrorlike sheen around the manor that had appeared when the ward was first erected appeared again, and it crumbled like a million pieces of broken glass, disappearing into glittering lights as it fell.

“What is that?” Fenton asked, voice soft and breathy.

“The ward,” Webby breathed. “Uncle Donald, Panchito, José, and Xandra built a ward just before you arrived. It just broke.”

Louie turned to the east. “It feels like something broke over there,” he noted.

“José said something about the eastern side being weak,” Huey said. He frowned when he felt wind creeping from the east, chilling. It made something inside him crawl.

Uncle Scrooge broke the tense silence. “Alright, let’s get inside. It should be safer in the manor.”

“But what if something is wrong?” Dewey protested.

“Then I’ll want you to _stay inside_ ,” Uncle Scrooge stressed. “I don’t want you running around with Donald out and about having a target on his back. Anyone could think of using you as bait.”

Dewey clenched his fists, electricity sparking off his hands. It died when Louie grasped his shoulder and steered him gently to the manor.

And then Uncle Donald’s magic screamed above the din, water rushing and jumping in a hurricane, and even without the telepathic bond Uncle Donald shared with Mom Huey could feel the undercutting panic in the current of the Uncle Donald’s magic. Mom barely took a second to process it, simply pivoting on her heels and calling her magic, white plumes blooming around her.

“S.O.S,” was all she said before she shot like a loosed arrow to the eastern side of the mansion, where Uncle Donald’s magic was still blaring.

“Mom, wait!” Dewey yelled, twisting off Louie’s hold. He ran after Mom, and Louie yelled in exasperation, running after him. Webby shot after them without saying a word, and Huey groaned, already taking off.

Something flew overheard, too fast to be recognized.

* * *

Trying to find Felldrake was both easy and difficult at the same time.

In the few times Donald came down to the city to get groceries and other daily necessities these few days, Donald had been probing around to find a way to track Sheldgoose and Felldrake in Duckburg. To his immediate unease, Felldrake’s magical residue was all over the town, and it was downright impossible to narrow down where he might be. Furthermore, he could feel it in the woods surrounding Killmotor Hill.

“He knows we’re here,” Panchito noted quietly.

José looked around. “It seems he’s been monitoring the manor.”

Donald hissed. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“Can you pinpoint where he is?” Xandra asked.

The three of them exchanged glances and shook their heads. “The magical residue is all over the place,” José said. “And the magic feels odd.”

“Odd?” Xandra echoed.

Panchito and José both turned to Donald, clearly wanting him to explain. He sighed and rubbed his neck. “Something about him being sealed inside Sheldgoose, probably. It keeps changing. It still feels like space, kind of, but it… uh…”

“Fluctuates,” José filled in. “It morphs constantly.”

“Maybe it depends on who’s dominant,” Panchito theorized. “Like who’s in control at the moment.”

“Maybe,” Xandra murmured, frowning and looking around. “There’s something around here, though.”

“Okay, let’s not be unnecessarily creepy here,” Donald cut in flatly. “ _Something_ can be anything. A squirrel, a frog, a bigfoot, Louie screaming because he’s not equipped for outdoor living…”

“It feels like a dormant spell.”

_That_ shut Donald up. He scanned the woods, alert all of a sudden, searching for anything out of place. He’d been walking through the woods of Killmotor Hill basically his whole life, he knew the place inside and out even though he didn’t really like the outdoors the way Della did.

Purple light shot through the leaves, going for José. A sheen appeared around him, the amulet activating its protective magic to protect José from malicious magic, but it broke the moment the purple light hit it. The spell hit José squarely on the shoulder, and he fell with a grunt. The tension broke, and chaos took its place.

“The amulet is supposed to protect us!” Panchito yelled as he dodged a blast.

“Felldrake must have found a way to circumvent the amulet’s protection,” Xandra said through gritted teeth.

Donald gathered his magic, feeling the ocean rise within him and feeling the amulet’s magic feeding into it, strengthening it until he could command any body of water around. Too late, he realized there wasn’t any in Killmotor Hill, and if his opponent hadn’t been spying on him the rising magic would have given his position away. If anything, him calling to his magic had only confirmed that he was there, painting a target upon his back.

True to his suspicions, the next purple blast shot to his head. He shifted aside to dodge it, running away when flurries of purple streaks chased him. A jutting root tripped his steps and he fell face-first into the dirt, already cursing his bad luck and knowing the next spell would hit.

It didn’t hit him. Instead, when he turned over, he felt the woven bracelet Webby made for him spark something warm on his wrist, and a shield appeared to protect him. The spell ricocheted off the shield and shot off to the sky.

Donald stared at the bracelet, finding himself silent. The flurry of spells stopped for a moment, apparently as shocked as Donald was.

And then Panchito whipped his head to a point in the forest, pointing and yelling, “There!” and his eyes blazed ruby red as he let out a loud, piercing whistle that made Donald’s ears ring. He smirked as he stood, knowing that it would be so much worse for whoever was Panchito’s target.

Something wailed in response to the whistle, and they rushed to it, Donald on the lead, to see what it was. Webby’s bracelet formed another shield for Donald when another purple light shot off to them. Donald had expected it to be Sheldgoose, downed from Panchito’s whistle, or maybe Leopold, acting as a way for Felldrake’s spell to go through.

He didn’t expect a straw doll the size of a child, its supposed heart burning a hole in its chest.

“A placeholder,” Xandra said. “Felldrake must have spelled it to attack us, and Panchito broke the spell.”

“But then… where is Felldrake?” José mused, leaning to a tree and clutching his shoulder.

“That aside, is your shoulder okay?” Donald asked. He closed in on their distance and tugged on José’s sleeve. “That was a solid hit you got.”

“Ay, Donal’, aren’t you just the sweetest friend?” José teased with a smile. He shifted his weight so he stood more comfortably. “The shoulder is fine, only a bit stiff. We can check on that later after we find Felldrake.”

“Yeah, finding him is first priority,” Xandra agreed immediately. “I think we should go back to the manor. Felldrake might have put the puppet as a distraction so he could get there undetected.”

“Should we check the eastern side?” Panchito asked. “It’s the weakest point of the ward. Plus, the ward is still weak overall. If he could feel the weakness, he might target it.”

The straw puppet, which had been still the whole time, suddenly jerked up as if someone had shaken it violently. A deep, rumbling chuckle that came from nowhere and everywhere at once thundered through the air, and the puppet burst into deep purple flames that consumed it to ashes in less than three seconds.

Too late, realization struck. “He used the puppet to listen to us. He knows about the eastern side,” Donald breathed.

José pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on and started marching. “Let’s go.”

When they got to the eastern ward boundary, Sheldgoose was already there. He leaned over the stake and was promptly electrified. He hissed, his body glowing purple, and reached down. This time, the electricity passed through him into the soil.

Panchito moved the fastest, holding up his spear and shooting ahead in a streak of red, ready to stop Sheldgoose from pulling the warding stake out of the earth. Leopold landed above him and pinned him down.

“Stupid monkey-bat-donkey-rat,” Panchito grumbled. “Get off me!”

“Don’t bother Daddy,” Leopold said instead, his hand finding Panchito’s neck. José ran ahead and sliced, his cutlass managing to draw blood from Leopold’s arm. He screeched in pain and jerked back.

“He told you to get off,” José said, voice dangerously low. Something emerald green flashed in his eyes, and when he spoke again, his voice echoed oddly. “Stay back, Leopold.”

Leopold froze in place, a panicked look in his eyes. Donald ignored him in favor of going for Sheldgoose, sword gripped tight in his hand and ready to swing. He ran to the goose with a battle cry.

Sheldgoose simply glanced at him, grinned, and pulled the stake free. Immediately, the ward shattered; the glint of the sun its surface reflected intensified before the ward crumbled from the top down, diamond dust raining down and disappearing in midair. “No!” Donald cried as he lurched forward, horror dawning as Sheldgoose threw the stake aside, purple glow diminishing at last.

“Thank you for telling me where to strike,” he said with a smile.

Horror was hard to deal with. Horror – fear – made Donald squawk and searched for a way to keep his family safe, called to the cowardly side of him that he wanted to drown and say goodbye to forever. So, instead, Donald got angry, and he swung the sword carelessly. The rushing _push and pull, push and pull_ at the back of his mind intensified and fused into his being, powering his temper with more than Donald’s usual brand of frustrated yelling.

Sheldgoose smiled. Around him, the wind picked up, his entire being feeling like the grey of cloudy, smoggy night sky reflecting the lights of the city, the stars above screaming to be seen but choked by the smoke. Slowly, the feeling of the stars intensified until all Donald could think of was how it reminded him of a dying star on the brink of winking away.

Sheldgoose let the power built, and then he swung a purple clad hand at Donald’s head. Donald managed to dodge, taking a few steps back to let the distance grow. Around Sheldgoose, the wind kept stirring, swirling around him and blowing outward.

“What do you want?” Donald snapped at him. He lifted the sword to point at Sheldgoose’s beak.

“I want many things,” Sheldgoose said. “Being freed from this body you sealed me in, for one.”

The sword wavered, lowering. “…Felldrake?”

Felldrake smirked. The purple glow that signified his control over the body finally appeared, overtaking Sheldgoose’s eyes until it was nothing but shining purple. It faded away to reveal Sheldgoose’s eyes again after a moment. “You learn a trick or two when you’re trapped like this.”

“And where is Sheldgoose?” Donald asked.

Felldrake tilted his head slowly, keeping it at an angle that was _technically_ possible but was so uncomfortable to see. “Foolish little duck. Why did you think Leopold call me _Daddy_?”

Cold crept in Donald’s fingers. “Is he not there anymore?” he chased.

“It’s been me,” Felldrake said, letting an unsettling, too-wide grin overtake the stolen body. “It was me who met the little green duckling in that decrepit children’s play area.” He straightened, but the grin stayed. “It’s not like Sheldgoose’s completely gone. I have to admit, he’s good at charming people.”

Donald rushed ahead, sword swinging. “Stay away from my kids!”

Purple field of energy formed in Felldrake’s hands, creating a shield that protected him from Donald’s sword and reminding Donald of how Lena used his amulet to create her own attacks. Except Felldrake didn’t have an amulet. It was all him.

“You stay away from my family,” Donald snarled.

Felldrake didn’t respond to that. Instead, he created a barrier around them, locking them in. Donald whipped his head around to stare at the dome-shaped barrier Felldrake had trapped them in, alarmed.

“Leopold! Go inside and get the mirror!” Felldrake yelled. Leopold flapped his wings and shot to the manor’s direction.

“No!” Donald gasped, worry spiking, momentarily distracted from Felldrake. It was a mistake; Felldrake bowled him over and pinned him down.

“Donald!” José cried from outside of the barrier. Panchito pounded at it, yelling in pain when the barrier reflected the blow back.

“Let go of him!” Xandra demanded, punching the barrier. If she felt the blowback, it didn’t seem to affect her the way it did Panchito.

“I need you to call your family here,” Felldrake told Donald.

“I would _never_ put them in danger,” Donald snarled.

“Then we do this the hard way,” Felldrake said casually. His hand glowed purple, and he reached to Donald’s head. Webby’s bracelet formed a barrier around him, but the magic Felldrake was using was clearly stronger than the potshots back in the woods with the puppet. The shield melted as his hand passed it. Donald struggled against his hold, but it didn’t seem to do anything, and soon Felldrake had his hand gripping Donald’s head, his thumb and pinky pressing hard at his temples.

Donald couldn’t stop the scream that ripped out of his throat. Pain laced up and down his spine, and Felldrake’s magic dug deep into his core. The distant, dying stars spread like poison and reached to the rushing sea, pulling it up and forcing it to react. Donald’s magic felt sullied, dirtied, and it immediately rose to rid Felldrake’s influence from it, screaming; panicked and disoriented from the pain that blinded Donald’s vision.

Felldrake didn’t relent. His decaying space kept digging in, like hooked blades pushing into flesh, catching muscles and keeping its place when pulled back. Donald’s deep-and-waves furiously broke it and washed it away, keeping Donald safe from the corruption Felldrake clearly intended to leave behind. Donald gasped for air in between screams. Through the slits of his eyes, his tunneling vision could still see how Felldrake’s magic left physical marks on him. He could see poisonous purple slivers in his feathers and fought the bile that rose up his stomach.

Rushing wind and sunny sky broke through the dying stars, helping the ocean push it back, and Donald’s eyes snapped open. The brief reprieve Della provided with her magic sent a surge of strength in his limbs and he kicked Felldrake off of him. Around them, the barrier shattered, Xandra’s hand punching through it. At some point the atlas had fallen off her back and it lay abandoned on the ground.

“Donald!” Della’s voice rang, and Donald turned to see her flying to him, plumes of white blooming like feathers around her. To his horror, the kids, Uncle Scrooge, and – he hadn’t even known they were there – Fenton and Gyro followed her.

“Stay back!” Donald yelled. “It’s dangerous!”

“It’s dangerous for you, too!” Della argued, and squawked when purple blast shot at her. She managed to maneuver away, but it was a close call.

“Hey, don’t shoot at my sister!” Donald yelled at Felldrake, and then found himself frantically jumping back when purple crystalline lances shot up from the ground, and he fell to his butt only inches away from the crystals.

Felldrake glanced at Xandra and stretched out his hand. The fallen atlas glowed purple, and it flew to Felldrake’s hand, snapping shut with a thud. Xandra cried out as she disappeared from thin air, locked back inside the atlas.

Donald’s gritted his teeth. He tried to stand, looking around to see Panchito pushed to one side and José to another, all three of them facing Felldrake and staring at the atlas. They needed to take the atlas back.

Donald’s hand gave out when he tried to push himself up, and he glanced at the purple staining his feathers and gulped. He could feel the remnants of Felldrake’s magic coursing through him. His own magic was still trying to slough off the taint, but it was strong, and it made him weak, stealing his strength and lancing phantom pains through his muscles.

He pushed all the same until he stood, no matter how wobbly he felt. He had a sorcerer to defeat and a goddess to steal back.

* * *

Louie didn’t like adventures.

That was obvious. He never really hid that from other people. He didn’t really like adventures, and while he was all for getting riches and seeing all the angles – he _did_ like the planning aspect of the adventures, at least – he knew he could get away from it if he wanted to, by staying home and telling the others to take a break or something.

This time, the adventure came to them, and Louie didn’t want to get involved. But seeing Uncle Donald being pinned down by the goose who grabbed him in Funso’s, seeing Mom being shot at by beams of magic, seeing Xandra disappear when the book she carried on her back was taken away by the goose…

_Unacceptable_ was the only word he could think of. This goose thought he could get here, harm his family, and somehow poof away a goddess? How dare he.

Rare, sudden burst of recklessness pounded at Louie’s head and he ran ahead, closer to the goose, away from his brothers’ and Webby’s reach. They didn’t realize he had ran ahead, too absorbed by the events unfolding by them.

A weird animal thing that might have been the Chupacabra hovered above the goose, holding a bronze mirror with tarnished golden decoration that made Louie’s blood run cold.

“The Mirror of Breaking,” Uncle Donald breathed, recognizing the mirror just as Louie did. The maybe-Chupacabra landed by the goose’s side.

“Good job, Leopold. Keep the mirror safe, okay? Don’t drop it,” the goose said as he petted the maybe-Chupacabra’s head. Louie had to blink at that, because seriously, who named that sort of creature _Leopold_ of all thing?

“Okay, Daddy,” Leopold answered as he let the goose climb onto his back. He flapped his wing and hovered up again.

“Stop!” Panchito yelled. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, but a quick blast from the goose stopped him from doing anything, the breath he’d taken wasted when he wheezed in pain. When José attempted the same, the goose only needed to glance his way, and his shoulder stiffened. Even from afar, Louie could see something glowing underneath José’s clothes. And Uncle Donald…

Louie’s stomach lurched. It was a wonder Uncle Donald was still standing at all. With his feathers ruffled and streaked with purple that he would have mistaken for blood had it been red, marring his limbs and the entirety of the left side of his face, Uncle Donald looked like he was ready to keel over at any moment.

Mom floated above, glaring at the goose and the atlas he was holding. She flew closer, and Louie stared at the atlas. He zoomed in on the book, reached into his magic and let it reach out and probed at it.

The cover was solid gold. He could do it.

Gold covered him from head to toe, shimmering and glinting as he concentrated on taking the atlas back. Like always, the world narrowed to a single focus as his vision tunneled to the object he wanted to pull to him. The book was wrenched out of the goose’s hold and shot straight to his hand.

Something snapped out and coiled around his neck, circling the flesh and holding tight without choking. Something infused into his very being, and he found his hold on the atlas slipping, and it fell to the ground with a thud. His gold sense tried to reach out for something, an object to focus on.

There was something above him, calling, beckoning. It felt like sullied gold, but it was there, and solid, and _calling_. He found his attention drawn to it, and he let the sullied gold occupy his mind, the call of it grew in his mind until he only had eyes for it. Something tugged and yanked at the collar-like thing around his neck, but he was no longer aware of it.

There were faint cries and calls, and the feeling of campfire warmth and lightning sparks trying to reach him, accompanied by soaring skies and rising waves. Something blocked them all. He wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t know.

Something enveloped his shoulders, and some distant part of wanted to curl in disgust and scream. He wasn’t sure why.

There was a tug, a whisper, a spark of something dark. The collar around his neck tightened, though it wasn’t choking. It was just… there. But it tightened all the same, and he felt rather than saw a hand reaching to his eyes, and he closed them purely on reflex.

The darkness was all consuming.

He knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> panchito and josé's magic are similar in that they both use sound, but different; panchito uses solely sound he makes (whistles, claps, banging on doors, whatever works) while josé specifically needs to speak and use words.
> 
> also, yeah, this is why i used the kidnapping and separation tag.
> 
> i'm not sorry.


	5. The Divide

_Blinded and hurt, one weeps alone._

* * *

Della stared blankly at the floor, letting the voices of Donald, Panchito, and José breathing in sync as all three of them held the Orb of Remedies wash over her. Her arms held Huey and Dewey, who clung to her in a desperate attempt to cling to something solid, and her hands felt their feathers, but her mind was elsewhere.

Louie was taken. Louie was gone.

Louie was collared with magic, yanked to the sky, and then he was gone.

The goose – Felldrake, Della learned – had grasped Louie in his hold, and Della’s stomach had clenched when she saw the golden discs of Louie’s eyes, felt her whole being scream with panic when nothing she, or Donald, or Huey and Dewey could do to bring Louie out of the magic-induced stupor he always seemed to be stuck in when he used his magic. Della had flown to them, ready to wrench Louie out of the goose’s hold, but Leopold swiped her out of the sky and sent her crashing painfully to the ground. And then purple glow had enveloped the three of them, and with another beat of the wings, they all blinked out of existence.

And Della was left with herself being numb, her remaining children wailing for their brother, Webby – the child her brother had basically adopted in all but papers – screaming, her brother tainted in magic, and her friends hurt from magical attack. Uncle Scrooge was quick to take charge and bring them all back to the manor with Gyro and Fenton’s help, and once the book Louie tried to get back was opened, Xandra too helped bring them all back. Della remembered vaguely trying to struggle against Uncle Scrooge’s hold and get to the sky, trying to get to Louie, but Uncle Scrooge held firmly and dragged her back to the manor. She only complied when she saw Donald, with Felldrake’s magic coiling around him like poison, with his own magic struggling to free itself from the influence. They returned to see one of the stain-glass windows by the stairs shattered and the place ransacked, and understood how Leopold grabbed hold of the mirror he stole.

Here, now, inside the manor, just sitting and _processing_ and realizing that one of her kids was taken right before her eyes, fighting the tears because _s_ he couldn’t cry in front of her kids, she couldn’t, crying meant she was acknowledging that she didn’t know what to do and her kids needed her to be strong and be the rock they could hold on to. But here, holding Huey and Dewey against her chest and feeling them tremble, feeling Huey’s uncomfortably warm body and Dewey’s constant buzz, feeling their magic growing volatile with their feelings, watching Webby watch the adults with a lost look in her eyes, listening to Donald, Panchito, and José breathe… it was hard to keep the tears in.

And then there was Uncle Scrooge, standing rigidly, gripping his cane until his knuckles trembled. She gulped and hedged, “Uncle Scrooge? You look like you want to yell.”

“Oh, I want to yell, lass,” Uncle Scrooge answered immediately. “There are so many things I want to yell about that I don’t know where to start.”

In front of him, Xandra winced. “Look, I said I’m sorry, okay? I don’t have any means to track Felldrake down. I don’t know how to get your nephew.”

“You’re the goddess of adventure,” Uncle Scrooge said through gritted teeth. “There has to be a way.”

“I’m telling you, if there is I don’t know about it,” Xandra said again, and she looked inches away from snapping.

“Then tell me what this Felldrake wants,” Uncle Scrooge chased. “We track him down that way.”

Donald coughed. When he spoke, his voice was rougher than usual. “He said he wants to break his seal. He said it’s been him the whole time.”

José hummed in thought. “How do you break the seal, Xandra?” he asked. “I know destroying our amulets work, but it seems Felldrake is going to do it another way.”

“Sure, because destroying your amulets again won’t work,” Xandra said with a sigh. “I mean, it would, but he knows you know about it and he probably wants to make sure he uses a way that you won’t expect.” She folded her arms and ground her teeth. “I just didn’t think his plans would involve kidnapping.”

“Why would he kidnap Louie?” Panchito mused. “I can’t imagine why he’d need him.”

“Could be a lot of things. Blood sacrifice, hostage…” Xandra listed, then trailed off. Della was happy she did; she couldn’t stomach the thought of Louie being used as a sacrifice.

Della jolted in surprise when Dewey let out a spark, electrifying her. He mumbled a soft apology and buried his beak deeper into her chest. She gripped him closer and nuzzled his crown.

“Xandra?” Panchito called when the goddess stayed unresponsive for a while.

“Say, what’s the little guy’s magic? Louie’s?” Xandra asked, dark eyes glinting thoughtfully.

“He can sense and control gold around him,” Donald answered. “Why?”

“I wonder if Felldrake knows, and if it factors to his plans somehow,” Xandra admitted. Her frown deepened. “But I don’t know _how_.”

“You don’t know how,” Uncle Scrooge repeated.

“Hey, I’m the goddess of adventure, not omniscience,” Xandra protested. “I’m trying to figure out as much as I can.”

“Then what about other ways he can break that seal?” Uncle Scrooge pressed. “Any artefact, spell, whatever he can use?”

Xandra frowned. “Technically, if he can destroy the body beyond recognition then heal the soul and strengthen his magic, the seal would be broken either way because the container is gone, but it’s kind of a lengthy process and it uses many different magical objects so I’m not sure if Felldrake would want to use that method.” She scratched her cheek, then her eyes glinted as she snapped her fingers. “Another way would be to find something that can grant his wish no matter the cost. I think he’ll choose to do this.”

“And how would he find it?”

Whatever spark Xandra had gained in her realization dimmed again. “I’m… not sure about that. I’ll have to find out about it first.”

Uncle Scrooge growled menacingly, and Webby quickly spoke up. “But Louie’s resourceful. He’s smart and he’s our angle guy. I’m sure he can find a way to escape on his own… right?”

Xandra grimaced. “I’m afraid not, kiddo. You remember that ribbon-like spell that Felldrake used on Louie?”

“…yeah?” Webby answered hesitantly. She looked away for a moment. “It reminds me of a… collar. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, I don’t like it either,” Xandra admitted. She shifted on her feet as she folded her arms together. “The thing is, with people who have magic like Louie, gold-touched people, they tend to get into this sort of trance when they use their magic – I’m sure you all have seen it – and it’s not exclusive to Louie. It’s not exactly _common_ for gold-touched people, but it’s not rare either. And that collar-like spell, it’s designed to keep people in their current state and keep them docile.”

Huey and Dewey shifted in Della’s hold to stare at Xandra. “So Louie’s basically… kept in that state when he uses magic?” Huey summed up.

“Yes,” Xandra said, and Della could see the pain in her eyes.

Dewey’s shoulders sagged. “Oh,” was all he said, but he let out another spark.

“Maybe we need another angle,” Donald suggested before Uncle Scrooge could hound Xandra again. “Forget about what Felldrake wants for now. Is there any way we can track Louie without tracking Felldrake?”

Gyro and Fenton both snapped up straight, complete with a gasp from Fenton.

“The GPS bracelet,” Fenton breathed, and Della’s eyes widened, hope blooming in her chest.

“He was still wearing it,” Della breathed. “Fenton, you can – you can track him with it, right? It has GPS tracking system, you can bring him back that way, right?”

“The bracelets can track each other,” Fenton said, almost to himself. “We just need one of the other bracelets and we can use it to track Louie, and – “ he stopped, eyes wide but dim. “Oh. Wait. No.”

Gyro met his grim gaze. “The tracking only works for a small area. Five blocks at most. We had to compensate to make the bracelet able to withstand magic. The plan was to let the bracelets go to field testing and start tweaking again with the data.”

“Wait, but if we can make a tracker specifically made to read the signal from Louie’s bracelet we might be able to track him no matter the distance anyway,” Fenton pointed out.

“Don’t compensate for the magical frequency. Focus on the signal alone,” Gyro added. He took out a tablet and started scribbling, Fenton leaning in to look at his notes. “So if we build this and do this to the wiring instead of what we did in the bracelet…”

Huey’s hat burst into flames, and Della jumped in surprise, leaning back to avoid catching her hair on fire. Huey simply patted the flames out dispassionately, and Della scanned the room to find someone who saw it too. To her dismay, Webby was the only one who returned her alarmed gaze.

She waited until the last hint of smoke disappeared, then curled her arm around Huey’s shoulders again. She frowned, feeling his heat snaking out of his clothes, feeling Dewey’s buzz growing and zapping suddenly. They usually had better control over their magic than this.

There was a knock at the door, and Webby dashed out to open it. To her surprise, both Lena and Violet were there, staring at Webby in alarm and confusion in their eyes.

“I felt weird stuff here earlier. What happened?” Lena demanded at once.

“Oh,” Webby mumbled, glancing back at the family. “It’s, uh…”

“Where’s Louie?” Violet added, her eyes sharp.

Webby stared at them for a moment and opened the door wider. “I’ll tell you about it in detail inside. Come on.”

Della looked down at Huey and Dewey again as Webby quietly told Lena and Violet about what had happened, trying to let it wash over her without absorbing the words – she felt like she would burst if she had to remember the devastation she felt again. She quietly let Gyro and Fenton’s murmurs about possible designs of the tracker pass her over, too – she didn’t understand much about the tech-heavy stuff if they had nothing to do with flying aircraft. And she didn’t really pay attention to Xandra and Uncle Scrooge debating about possible magical objects they could use to aid their search either – they would know more than her. All she could do for now was try to soothe Huey and Dewey while the only calming sound in the room – Donald, Panchito, and José’s in-sync breathing – went on in the background.

She jolted when Dewey sparked off and electrified her lightly again, and this time Uncle Scrooge caught sight of it.

“Dewey?” Uncle Scrooge asked softly.

“Sorry,” was all Dewey said as he rubbed his arm. “It’s kind of… hard to control.”

“Do you need to go out and discharge the buildup electricity first?” Della offered.

Dewey exchanged a look with Huey and shook his head. “I don’t think that will help.”

“Why?”

Huey’s hands gripped the hem of his shirt and started stretching and rubbing nervously. He met Della’s eyes and began, “Do you remember what happened with the Three Feathers Pin?”

Della tilted her head. “When we took it? Louie grabbed it and your magic went wild – “ she stopped and blinked. “Louie’s magic went wild but it was undetected, and we got distracted from the two of you having uncontrollable magic. Huey… are you saying that whatever’s affecting Louie right now is also affecting you and Dewey?”

“We think that’s the case,” Huey answered. “It’s been kind of hard, reigning our magic in.”

“I don’t think this will stop until that spell on Louie is broken,” Dewey added. He considered, then admitted, “And it’s been kind of hard to keep track of my thoughts. I kind of keep drifting off.”

“Like you’re thinking of something and just lose your train of thoughts?” Huey asked. At Dewey’s nod, he sighed. “Yeah, it’s happening to me too.”

Xandra hissed. “I never thought that sort of thing could happen.”

“If anything, it makes finding Louie even more important,” Della urged. “Fenton, Gyro? How soon do you think you can start tracking Louie?”

“We’ll have to finish making this first,” Gyro tapped his tablet.

“We’ll do it as soon as we can but it won’t be that fast,” Fenton added, apologetic.

Donald’s hand twitched. Della found herself staring. If Donald realized she was, he didn’t say anything. He just glared at Fenton, demanding, “Okay, but how long will that take?”

“Well, that’s designing, and building, and there needs to be some testing to make sure the tracker won’t gain sentience or turn evil – “

“ _How long_?” Donald repeated, and the room grew heavy as his magic flared. Della pulled Huey and Dewey closer to her, and absently noted how Webby, Lena, and Violet all shifted closer to her, too. She tried to twine her magic to Donald and calm him down, but he didn’t let her. A poke at Panchito and José let her know that they were attempting the same, but Donald didn’t let them, either. Della glanced at the two of them, who exchanged looks of alarm.

Donald’s magic reeked of the remnants of the corruption Felldrake’s spell left in its wake, and he exuded rage that made Della’s skin crawl. This wasn’t his usual anger and tantrum that jostled ships in a storm. This was a naval hurricane with a wall of water so high it simply rolled the ship over and dragged it down into the bottom of the sea. He had never felt like this before, not really. Della had to wonder how much of it was his own protective streak going on a rampage, and how much was the corruption warping it into senseless anger.

“Donald, stop,” she said anyway, even though she didn’t really want to touch Donald with a ten-foot pole. Not when his magic felt like _that_.

“And do what?” Donald whirled. “Nothing?”

“You can try cooling down a little and look at our options again,” Della suggested. “But stop antagonizing Fenton and Gyro. It won’t help anyone.”

“She’s right, Donal’,” José murmured, placing a hand on Donald’s shoulder while Panchito stared with keen, sharp eyes. “Felldrake’s influence is still strong in you. At least wait until it’s purged.”

“I can’t just sit still here – “

“This isn’t a problem where you can just take your cape and cowl and beat up like some random bank robbers, Donald,” Della cut in. She shook with her own rising anger that masked something she didn’t want to acknowledge. “What will you do? Dress up in your suit and patrol the city? Felldrake’s long gone.”

Dewey made a confused sound. “Cape and cowl?”

Huey added, “Dress up in suit and patrol?”

Fenton squinted his eyes at Donald, then his eyes widened comically and he worked his jaw silently for a moment. When he found his voice again, it was an octave higher than usual, screeching out, “ _Paperinik?!_ ”

Donald’s eyes widened. As impressive as his ability to have multiple secret identities at once, he sure was bad at actually keeping his face neutral when people confronted him about it. But he regained his footing quickly, and he glared at Della, his magic churning dangerously. Della raised her own fluttering magic to meet his challenge in retaliation. “No more secrets, Donald,” she said instead.

“You are! You’re Paperinik!” Fenton gestured animatedly, and Gyro moved out of the way. “You have the same build and everything, I just realized. How did you change your voice?”

Donald hung his head and sighed. When he straightened, his voice was stiff and almost cold. “I got a voice modulator from… a friend. You can do with one, too.”

Fenton blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“You have the same voice and mannerism. It’s not hard to figure out you’re Gizmoduck.”

Panchito elbowed José and whispered loudly, “Who’s Gizmoduck?”

José shrugged. “Fenton, apparently.”

“…and who’s Paperinik?”

“…Donal’, apparently?”

Della blinked a few times and stared at Fenton. She would have expected to him to flounder and try to deny being pointed at as Duckburg’s resident hero, but he just sighed, took out a notebook, and scribbled something in it. Gyro peered over and immediately grew livid, however.

“How the _duck_ did an entire block find out you’re Gizmoduck?!” he yelled. “And a barista and Starduck’s?! The _dry cleaner_?!”

Uncle Scrooge sighed and grumbled under his breath. It sounded suspiciously similar to a string of curses that Della once blurted in front of him, which ended with him grounding her. It felt mighty unfair that he could grumble it out freely when Della had to be grounded for it.

“It could be the voice,” Donald interjected sharply, a hint of cheekiness in the sea of cold bitterness he was exuding in droves. “Equip him with a modulator, Gyro.”

Huey held out a hand. “Excuse me but I have _many_ questions.” He stared at Donald. “So you’ve been running around raising us, doing several jobs at once, teaming up with Panchito and José and Xandra to fight against an evil sorcerer, and go out as Paperinik, too?”

“I haven’t really been out as Paperinik for a while – “

Fenton let out a strangled noise. “You just took down an armed robbery by the Beagles a week ago! I helped, with Darkwing Duck!”

Donald shifted back. “Uhh, yeah. I’ve been going out as Paperinik sporadically, lately.”

Huey looked down, and Della could see the gears in his head turning as he ran his mental math. It was taking longer than usual, though not by much. When he snapped up to look at Donald again, his gaze was incredulous. “Uncle Donald, when do you even sleep?!”

Donald opened his mouth to answer, stopped, and looked away with a soft, contemplating _huh_. He shook his head and his gaze hardened again. “That’s not important right now – “

“I beg to differ, I just found out my uncle’s a hero, what even is my life?” Dewey cut in. “Huey, I want you to know that I don’t mind being the Uncle Donald of us anymore, but what even is our life?!”

Donald’s pointed gaze landed on the remaining triplets. “You can discuss that more with Louie once we get him back.”

Even from her angle, Della could see both boys’ faces falling at Donald’s words as they wilted back into her hold. She shifted to hold them better and glared at Donald. “And we can do that more easily if we work together,” she told him, shelving the lecture that immediately materialized in her head about _not stressing the kids out, Donnie, for god’s sake._

“At this point we’re just sitting around doing nothing and act as if it’s something,” Donald argued.

“We’re still brainstorming. Give it time.”

“Louie doesn’t have time!” Donald said. “It’s _Felldrake_. He won’t give Louie time.”

Lena rocked back on her heels. “Felldrake,” she mumbled.

Webby’s gaze was sharp when she whirled to look at her. “What? Did you recognize the name?”

Lena blinked and shook her head. “Not really, no, sorry. But…” she paused and shook her head. “You know what, it’s nothing. I’ll tell you later, in a bit.”

“I get that you want to go out and bring Louie back,” Panchito said as he pulled Donald by the shoulder to settle back to the couch. “I want to bring him back, too. But like José said, heal yourself first. You’re not going to be much help like this.”

Donald made a strangled, impatient sound, but he settled quietly as he let the orb purge him from the last of Felldrake’s magic, glaring at the purple streaks still apparent in his feathers. Della kept glancing at him in worry as she patted Huey and Dewey who periodically grew hotter than she was comfortable with and zapped her like a mosquito racket, while Uncle Scrooge went back to asking Xandra to provide him with more information.

And then Donald moved suddenly, and she jerked to look at him, jostling Huey and Dewey in her hold. The purple that streaked his feathers were gone, but he had a sort of wild look in his eyes that Della didn’t like. She tried to call him through his magic, but he remained out of reach.

Donald’s hand left the orb he was holding together with Panchito and José. They stared at him in confusion as he stood, calling for him and telling him he needed to let the orb’s magic heal him more, but Donald ignored them and walked to the door, wobbling occasionally. Della put Huey and Dewey gently aside, ignoring their confused calls, and ran after Donald, managing to catch him just as he walked down the stairs outside the manor, clearly heading to the gate.

“Don, stop!” Della yelled, but Donald ignored her just as he had ignored Panchito and José. She grabbed his arm and forcibly turned him so he met her eyes. “ _Donald_!”

Donald’s gaze was stormy. “Let me go, Della.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m getting Louie back.”

Della only tightened her grip. “How? We don’t know where he is. Can you track him? And even if you can, can you fight Felldrake on your own?”

Donald looked away. “Never mind that. I’ll make do. I’ll bring him back.”

“And throw your life in the process? Stop being a self-sacrificial idiot, Don. Get back inside. Let’s work on this together.”

“I’m not risking Louie being out there!” Donald snapped. “He shouldn’t have been taken to begin with!”

“You running off without plan isn’t going to help!” Della snapped back.

“It’s worked before – “

“I don’t care that you have experience running around in a cape fighting aliens!” Della cut in, and her magic rose. The anger that masked the undercurrent of something she denied the existence of was back. “This is a sorcerer who you yourself have said to have been able to put a goddess inside a book and required three people to seal. You think running off is going to work here?!”

“At least I’m doing something!” Donald yelled. His magic, too, rose, and Della swallowed a bile at the unmistakable feeling of corrupted magic that rushed in Donald’s watery magic. It clearly hadn’t had enough time to heal itself. “What are you doing right now? Sitting around doing nothing? Like you did on the moon?”

Della’s eyes widened. “How – _How dare you?_ You think I _like_ just sitting here? You think I _like_ the fact that _my child_ was kidnapped?!”

“Then do something! I’m doing something, aren’t I? I’m getting Louie back!”

“You – “ Della wrenched her goggles off her head and threw it to Donald. It smacked right into his beak, and she swallowed her satisfaction. “Stop being _selfish_!”

“I’m being _selfish_?!”

“You’re only thinking of yourself!” Della screamed. “You just want to make yourself feel better, so you try to do something, to go out there and _get Louie back_. And you have the gall to tell me I should be doing something? And risk what? Losing the rest of my kids? Letting them grow up without a mother, so soon after I finally get to give them back what they didn’t get to experience in the first ten years of their lives?”

Donald gritted his teeth, and when he spoke again his words were thorny, and they _dug_ as deep as they could. “They managed without you. _We_ managed without you.”

Della recoiled as though slapped and pushed down her desire to wrap her fingers around Donald’s neck and _shake_. She straightened instead. “And then what? You want to risk them losing _you_ instead? The person who actually raised them? You want them to lose the only parent figure they grew up with?”

Donald’s eyes were stormy. “Della – “

“You think that’s better for them, to see you throw away your life?”

“They have you now.” Donald’s voice was cold, cold, cold. “They have you and Uncle Scrooge. They can do without me.”

“That doesn’t mean they should,” Della argued.

“I don’t care if I die as long as they’re safe!” Donald snapped. “I don’t care as long as _you_ are!”

“I don’t care if you don’t! _I care!_ ” Della screamed back, and the thing she kept masking with anger finally broke through. Fear reared its ugly head, and she was so scared, scared, _scared_ that she ended up angry instead. The tears that she had been holding back finally spilled freely, and she acknowledged at last that things were wrong, so wrong, and there wasn’t much she could do and she was helpless and she was _angry about it_ , angry at how her brother, who should have known better, thought she was content to sit still on her hand and let fate play out. The sight of her crying finally gave Donald pause. Della breathed and steeled herself. “I care if you died, Donald. Stop being selfish. Stop being _stupid_. Get back inside and let’s do this together.”

“Della,” Donald sighed, but he stopped again when Della sniffed.

“My child was taken right in front of me, Donald,” she said, and she was begging by this point but she didn’t care anymore. “I’ll move mountains to get him back, but I don’t know if I can, if Felldrake is as powerful as you said. And I still have Huey and Dewey to think about.” She took a deep breath. “My. Child. Was taken right in front of me. Don’t you dare take my brother away, too.”

Donald stared with a gaze that Della couldn’t interpret, and she flared her magic at her, trying to get him to understand. He didn’t connect his magic to hers, and it felt so much more painful than getting punched in the gut.

A quick, sharp whistle caught their attention and they turned to the door, where Panchito leaned almost too casually. “You still need to get your magic fixed, Donald,” he said pointedly. “And if you think I’ll let you go on your own, you’re wrong.”

Donald stared for a moment, then snorted. “Of course you won’t,” he said. There was something odd in his tone Della couldn’t quite place. There had been something in Donald that Della couldn’t quite place for a while, now.

“Come on, get inside,” Panchito coaxed. Della buried the rearing jealousy when she saw Donald giving in to Panchito’s request.

“Hey,” Panchito stopped Donald as he passed him, holding his arm across Donald’s chest and gripping his shoulder. “Don’t fly off, okay?” When Donald stared, his gaze hardened. “I mean it. You try to fly off, I knock you out and tie you to a chair. Okay?”

Donald snorted again. “Where are the kids?” he asked instead.

Panchito tilted his head inside. “José coaxed Huey and Dewey to sleep so they can rest. The girls are talking.” He released Donald and slapped him lightly on the back. “Go.”

Della watched Donald walk and waddled after him with a sigh. She squeaked in surprise when Panchito threw his arm around her shoulders and part supported her, part steered her deeper into the manor. “You good, _mi amiga_?” he asked.

Della sniffed and wiped her tears. “I’m – yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” Panchito prodded. “It’s OK if you’re not. You can cry on my shoulder, I’m good at that.”

A laugh blubbered up her throat. “Thanks, Panchito, but I’m as fine as I can be right now.”

Panchito patted her arm comfortingly. “We’ll get Louie back,” he promised. “And me and José will keep an eye on Donald.”

“…thanks.”

They turned into the room where the whole group had settled in and almost crashed into the three girls. Della stepped back, and Panchito had to let go of her to make room for the three girls to go through.

“Wait, where are you going?” Della found herself asking.

Lena blinked at her. “Downtown,” she said at last. “There’s a quick thing I need to do.”

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything this Fell-whoever is gonna want,” Lena reasoned.

“And Webby said she wants to get more thread for bracelets,” Violet added.

Della turned her gaze to Webby, who nodded. “For Panchito and José,” she said. “And if there’s time, maybe I can make something else for everyone, too. Something stronger.”

Panchito cooed and knelt to meet Webby’s eyes more easily, ruffling her hair gently. “ _Princesa_ , don’t worry about that. Anything you make will be a powerful treasure.”

“But… my charms are supposed to be able to protect people,” Webby said hesitantly.

Panchito opened his mouth and sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, _chiquita_. Donald’s bracelet protected him a bit, but Felldrake melted the shield your bracelet made. I don’t know how strong you need to make the bracelets to make it effective.”

Webby stared at him, heartbroken. “Then they’re useless?”

“No! No, they’re not!” Panchito assured. He threw a look at the floor for a moment. “Ugh, José’s much better with _words_. It’s not that the bracelets are useless, it’s that not even the strongest amulet can stop Felldrake.” He took her hands and squeezed. “But I will be happy if you make me one of your bracelets. I’ll make one for you, too, if you let me.”

Webby offered a small, tentative smile. “If you’re okay with that.”

“I’ll always be okay with that, _princesa_.” He waved the kids off.

Della watched as he straightened up. “You’re good with kids,” she noted. “Not the smoothest talker, but still.”

Panchito shrugged. “José is the talker. And you get good with kids when your job is mostly singing gigs at kids’ birthday parties. Besides, Webby’s _easy_. Your kids are all _easy_. Do you know how many brats I meet in my job? I’ve considered shattering my guitar, Della. _My guitar._ Those brats are the worst.”

The pressing in Della’s chest loosened a fraction, and she laughed at Panchito’s whines. She pretended not to see when Panchito smiled in relief at her, and she pretended to not notice Donald’s churning magic that still refused to mingle with hers, pretended that it didn’t hurt her as much as it really did.

She let her magic snake out to prod at Donald’s magic. It didn’t prod back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter kind of got away from me. i did want to write some sort of confrontation between the twins, but i was kind of surprised it came out this way. also, a part of me isn't wholly convinced it's in character? but i've been trying to tweak it for a while, and i never liked the result. in the end, there wasn't really any change story-wise.  
> then again, with how attentive donald can get when it comes to his family, he sure would know how to hit them where it hurts.


	6. The Effort

_One lost to another’s hunger._

* * *

Webby glanced at Lena, absently noting how Violet did the same, as they came to a stop at Funso’s. It loomed over them.

“Are you going to tell us why you brought us here?” Violet asked. “Is it so you can see if Felldrake is hiding here?”

“I’m not looking for Felldrake right now,” Lena answered lightly. “And I doubt he’s anywhere near here. Come on.” She led them inside without any more words, and Webby and Violet exchanged glances before following.

Webby watched as Lena looked around, eyes searching, as she silently noted where the doors were, in case things went south. The cool metal of the throwing knife she managed to hide in her sleeve pressed against her feathers and she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of it calming her.

Violet tugged on Webby’s hand when Lena moved again, and they both followed. A part of Webby grew alarmed when she finally realized what – who – Lena had been looking for.

“Hello, Magica,” Lena greeted the magician-turned-Funso’s worker, and Magica, who had been wiping a table, looked up in surprise.

“Well, isn’t it Lena,” Magica responded calmly. She didn’t look like she minded the intervention much, and to Webby’s surprise, she didn’t look all that annoyed that they knew what she was working as. Magica calmly took seat at the table and stared at them. “What a surprise. Are you here only to greet your dear old aunt?”

“No, there’s something we want,” Lena said.

“I figured.” Magica leaned forward and supported her chin on a hand, her elbow digging into the table as she carelessly threw her rag to the seat nearest to hers. “What do you want, then? Make it quick, I’m on my shift.”

“There’s something I want to know,” Lena began, “and maybe a favor or two I want to ask. It’s a magical matter involving one of the triplets.”

Magica raised a brow. “Well, it’s going to cost you something.” She straightened up. “How about this? You return to me – “

“Not a chance,” Webby cut in before Magica could finish the sentence. Magica threw her a scowl, but Webby kept her stance, glaring menacingly.

“I know you want your magic back,” Lena said instead, and it broke the staring contest immediately. “I’m willing to work together with you to get my magic back to you if you want. But I want to stay. I’m Lena, now, and I’m not just your shadow anymore.”

Magica stared, eyes sharp. Violet shifted by Lena’s side, and Webby noticed how she moved to tug at Lena’s hand, tapping on her hand. Webby watched as Violet’s Morse code spelled, _weapon for me, just in case_ , and had to catch herself from letting her hidden blade drop to her palm. Not yet, she thought, and preferably never. She wouldn’t want to be banned from Funso’s.

Was that a thing? Can people be banned from Funso’s? Can kids?

“Shame,” Magica said. “You were exemplary as a shadow.”

Webby let the blade fall and caught it expertly, holding her hand up to let Magica see the glint of the metal. Lena caught her hand before she did anything more.

“Webby,” Lena hissed. “ _Behave_.”

“She’s not just your shadow,” Webby snarled at Magica.

To her frustration, Magica just propped her chin on her hand. “Trying to get my magic back without having you as my shadow is a lot of work,” she said. “I would say it’s not worth the effort.”

“It’s worth it if it keeps Lena here,” Violet interjected. She seemed miffed Lena didn’t give her the weapon she requested, but she didn’t argue on that. “I’m not letting you take her.”

Magica swept her gaze and stared at each of them, then huffed. “I want to know what you’re asking first.”

Lena took a deep breath. “Our friend went missing. He was kidnapped. I want you to help us get him.”

“Who?”

“Louie,” Webby said.

“I have no idea who that is.”

“He’s one of the triplets,” Violet explained. “The one who wears green.”

“Ah, the fledgling gold-touched child,” Magica mused, beak curling into a lazy smile. “Figures. He’s the most precious of all three.”

“We don’t know why he was taken, but we want him back,” Violet said again. “We also want information on the one who took him. It was a sorcerer by the name of Felldrake.”

Webby had been watching Magica closely, and if she had blinked at that moment, she would have missed the way Magica’s eyes widened a fraction, recognition morphing her almost nonchalant attitude into pure horror, and how she tamped down on it hard, so hard, and schooled her face into stern scowl instead. “Felldrake, you say?” she asked instead.

“Yes,” Violet said. “He showed up with a creature – “

“Oh, spare me the details. I know exactly who Felldrake and his ratty little pet is,” Magica scoffed. “He’s bad news, Lena. You don’t want anything to do with him. _I_ don’t want anything to do with him.”

“He took Louie,” Webby pressed. “We need to get him back.”

Magica stared at her for a moment. “If he’s lucky, he’s already dead,” she said.

The usual buzzing crowd in Funso’s play area and arcade was drowned by the ringing in Webby’s ears as she tensed up in – rage, horror, both? She wasn’t sure anymore. By her side, Lena stilled.

Violet was the only one who managed to keep her wits enough to speak. “Why do you say that? What makes Felldrake bad news, in your book?”

Magica scoffed again. “You said yourself that your friend was taken – “

“Magica, stop dancing around the question,” Lena said with a sigh. “Did Felldrake do something?”

Magica grew quiet at that. She glanced at somewhere behind Webby, Violet, and Lena, and stood up. “I don’t have to answer you. I have a job to do.”

Webby’s eyes grew wide and she gripped her knife hard enough to make her fingers numb. “No. You don’t get to do that.”

Magica frowned. “Listen, girl – “

“No.” Webby straightened up. “You don’t get to ask Lena to turn back into a shadow and then just decide not to help us. You don’t get to give Lena nightmares to make her decide to return to you and just turn your back. You don’t get to imprison Scrooge in his dime, harm my family, threaten to kill my friends and get away with it, and just decide you don’t want anything to do with us. You’re telling us everything you know about Felldrake.”

“I did not _get away_ with imprisoning Scrooge,” Magica protested, looking almost comically offended. “I lost my magic. To my own shadow.”

“Well you still managed to send nightmares at Lena, so clearly you’re doing well enough without magic,” Webby replied hotly. “Now tell us everything.”

Magica glanced again and sighed. “I meant it when I said I have a job to do,” she said, looking like a part of her soul left her body at the thought of doing her job. “My shift ends in an hour or so. Come to me then.”

“No, we want answers now – “

Violet cut Webby off. “Alright. We’ll meet you again in an hour. But be aware that we will monitor your movements, and we will know if you try to slip away.”

Magica snorted. “I have no plans to slip away.” Her gaze met Lena’s. “Besides, it has been a while since we last bonded, hasn’t it, Lena? I’m dying to know what you’ve been up to.”

Lena blinked. “…you are?”

“Shadow or not, you were still born from me,” Magica said. “Your wellbeing affects mine.” She tutted and smoothed her dress, then walked away, looking ridiculously graceful in the bumbling, contained chaos in the arcade. “See you in a bit, Lena.”

They decided to let Magica work and waited, sitting around the table Magica had just left and glancing around the arcade, mostly wordless. True to her words, Magica emerged an hour later, and Webby glared at her as she, Violet, and Lena walked closer. Magica simply gave them a once-over, then motioned for them to follow her.

She led them to the beach, near a small pier where the waves crashed against the wooden support beams. Webby purposefully walked right at the shoreline, tracking how the seawater lapped at the sand slowly drifted back to the blue expanse, letting it run through her feet and dragged back, pulling sand as it moved back and making her feel like it was trying to pull her, too, into the sea.

Magica settled only steps away from the pier, daintily perching on a rock and folded her arms. “Well? Ask away.”

“Tell us about why you think Felldrake is bad news,” Violet said, taking control over the conversation. “That was where we left off, earlier.”

Magica sighed. “He is a strong enough sorcerer to have been able to defeat and imprison a minor deity. Is that not proof enough that he is not to be meddled with?”

Webby blinked. “You know about Xandra?”

“Everyone who knows who’s who knows about Xandra,” Magica said.

“Okay, but from what you said it sounds like there are other things he did,” Lena pressed. “I want to know what we’re getting into.”

“It’s only rumors.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

Magica leaned back, frowning in thought. “The rumors of him being sealed is far reaching,” she began. “No one knows for sure what he looks like these days, but it was fairly clear he’s been sealed. Sightings of that pet of his has been whispered about but it’s sporadic at best. If you ask for rumors of Felldrake, specifically, I can offer you nothing but useless hearsays and things you’ve already known. Rumors of a goose in purple, however…”

Webby shifted. “Tell us,” she said, too restless to let Magica take her time.

She didn’t account for the feeling of being submerged in midwinter lake when Magica answered, “Gold-touched people went missing around him. Not all of them are found. The few that are found are dead.”

* * *

Scrooge walked into the bar and pushed it open, letting the bell ring melodiously as he stepped in. The bar wasn’t crowded at this time of day, but there were still some patrons about.

He didn’t have business with them. He did, however, have a business with the blond seated at the barstool, charming a poor man as she blatantly robbed him blind. Scrooge snorted and approached, ignoring the familiar blitz of curtains and masks he sometimes got around her.

Goldie saw him coming and leaned back with a lazy smile, giving him a slight wave. The feeling of curtains and masks dissipated, and _Goldie_ peeked underneath. He smiled back and sat by her side, silently amused at how the man she had been flirting with was promptly ignored. The man looked equal parts relieved and disgruntled as he slipped away from his seat.

“Well, well, well, isn’t it our dear old Scroogie,” Goldie teased. “I wouldn’t have expected to see you here. What brings you about?”

Scrooge offered her a tight smile. “I’ll tell you in a bit,” he strained out. After ordering (and begrudgingly paying for) a drink, he turned to look at Goldie.

“It’s not often that you’re actually looking for me,” Goldie said. “What is the exciting news? Have you found another treasure to hunt? An interesting amulet, maybe a weapon of sorts?”

Scrooge leaned in and put his hand on Goldie’s shoulder, pulling her in so he could speak softly. He ignored the way her hand immediately reached to his pocket and spoke, “Louie’s been kidnapped.”

Her hand stopped as her eyes grew wide. “Louie?” she repeated dumbly.

He released her and straightened, nodding.

“But – why? Is it – “ her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in again. “Have they asked for ransom? I know you, you’re an extreme penny pincher, but you’d trade anything for your kids’ safety.”

“There is no ransom demand. I don’t think there will be one,” Scrooge told her, just as lowly. “We have some suspicion that he was taken because of… what he can do.” He gave her a meaningful look, hoping she’d understand.

She did. “That sounds… foreboding.”

“You don’t know half of it. Apparently Donald has fought the one who took Louie, before. The way he speaks of him makes it clear that Louie’s chance… isn’t really that great.”

Goldie looked aside, looking worried. It warmed Scrooge’s heart, that little bit of concern she showed. He took a deep breath and went on with his plan. “Goldie. I have a favor to ask.”

Goldie’s eyes widened. “What favor? I know I’m good at sneaking into places, but I don’t know how much risk I’m going to take with this.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Scrooge soothed. “I want you to look for something.”

“Look for what?”

This was it. Desperate hope swelled in Scrooge’s chest, and when he spoke, his words tumbled out in a rush. “We think the kidnapper might be looking for a specific magical object. Something that can grant one’s wish. If we can find one and beat him to the punch, we can save Louie before he gets hurt.”

“Will it make him pay attention to me?” Goldie asked with a frown. “If he specifically looks for people with… _special talents_ , you might say, how safe will I be?”

“If he doesn’t know of what you can do, you’re most likely fine.” Scrooge searched her eyes, and when he found her uncertain, he took her hand and gripped tightly. “Goldie. You’re the single most resourceful adventurer I know of aside from me. You’re good at locating and getting treasures. If anyone has any chance of finding this hypothetical object, it’s you.” He met her eyes and pursed his beak. “I need to be here with my family. And I need to get my nephew back.”

Goldie sighed, looking conflicted. “Scrooge – “

“ _Please_ ,” Scrooge whispered, and Goldie’s eyes widened. “You’re the only one I can think of to ask.”

Goldie stared for a long while, long enough that Scrooge had the growing urge to shift and fidget nervously. He pushed the impulse away and stared right back at Goldie instead.

After a long last, Goldie sighed, in defeat instead this time. “I don’t know if I can find what you want me to find,” she said, “but I’ll try to find it.”

Scrooge squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Goldie.”

* * *

When Huey woke from his slumber, the room was dim. He blinked and felt the pillowcase against his cheek, briefly wondering what had happened, when he remembered that José had somehow managed to lead him and Dewey to their room and coaxed them to sleep.

He wasn’t sure why he was awake now. He could see slivers of reddish-gold light of the setting sun seeping through the curtains, so he hadn’t been asleep for long. Something felt niggling, though. Different from usual. He bent down to peek into Dewey’s space to check on him.

His brother’s gaze met him immediately, and a part of him _knew_ that they had awoken at the same time. Dewey blinked at him and spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

Huey frowned. “Of course it is. Louie’s still missing.”

Dewey sat up, and Huey could tell he was frustrated – agitated – from the way he jerked around. “I know that, I mean – can’t you tell? It’s just… seriously, can’t you tell?”

Huey opened his mouth to answer, but stopped. The thing was, he knew what Dewey meant. That weird niggling sensation that he couldn’t begin to put words into kept poking him at the back of his mind. His face must have shown it, because Dewey looked at him triumphantly.

“See, you _do_ know what I’m talking about,” he said.

“It could be nothing,” Huey argued. “We don’t know what that’s about. It could be because we know Louie’s been kidnapped, for all things.”

Dewey wilted a little, at that. “Yeah,” was all he managed to say as he curled to hug his knees.

Huey climbed down the ladder and sat on Dewey’s bed, giving him a one-armed hug. “I’m sure Uncle Donald will find a way to get Louie back,” he assured. Part of him wondered how much of it was for Dewey’s sake, and how much was for his own.

“I wish he can get him back now,” Dewey mumbled. “Huey, how do we know he’ll be okay?”

“Hey, give him some credits. Louie’s stronger than that.” Huey squeezed Dewey’s arm comfortingly even though his stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought.

“Yeah, but come on.”

Huey sighed and slumped a little, leaning into Dewey’s space, who readily supported him. He didn’t speak, but he knew Dewey understood his silence as agreement.

“We need to do something,” Dewey declared.

“Like what?” Huey challenged, more to coax Dewey than to be senselessly antagonistic. “We can barely control our magic.”

“Other things, then. Just… something.” Dewey leaned away so he could look at him in the eyes. “Huey, we can’t just do _nothing_.”

“Okay, but do you have any idea? Because I’m coming up empty.”

Dewey opened his mouth to answer, but stopped and looked away in obvious frustration. Huey reached out and patted his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, Fenton promised he’d be quick with the tracker.”

“I know, but still – “ the words died on Dewey’s tongue, and his eyes grew wide. Huey didn’t need to ask him what was wrong because he _knew_ that he was feeling the same thing as Dewey.

It was like they had been pushed into slumber before, and they had finally snapped awake, and everything was brighter, sharper, louder than before. Their magic blared to life for the briefest second, flaring heat and jumping sparks suddenly and unexpectedly, and something undeniably _green_ and _gold_ and _glittering_ danced just out of reach. Almost without him being aware of it, Huey dug deep and searched, and cooling gold met his own campfire warmth and Dewey’s intense lightning heat before retreating away, but it was undeniably _there_.

Huey moved first, scrambling to the ladder, but Dewey beat him to the floor by jumping down without much care. Both bolted to the door, practically racing down the stairs to reach the other occupants of the manor as soon as possible.

Uncle Donald was still in the room where they had gathered in with Panchito, José, and Xandra, but Mom, Uncle Scrooge, Webby, Lena, and Violet were nowhere in sight. Neither were Fenton and Gyro, but Huey hadn’t expected them to hang around for long, since they didn’t have anything they could build their tracker with in the manor. Mrs. Beakley, however, was also there, putting empty teacups onto a tray.

Uncle Donald looked up from the book he was reading – some ancient-looking tome Huey didn’t recognize. He frowned at Huey and Dewey and put a bookmark between the pages he was reading, then closed the book. “I thought you two were resting,” he said.

Dewey didn’t even bother trying to explain. “We felt Louie,” he said instead, and Huey nodded hurriedly when Uncle Donald’s eyes widened. “He’s awake.”

* * *

It felt like being submerged in water, coldly detached with the voices around him muffled and feeling like he was floating weightlessly. He could feel glittering gold all around him, shining, but he was content to just float. Strange, a distant part of him observed, since gold usually beckoned to him, but this one felt more like a shine that hugged him tightly and was content to let him be.

A part of him realized it was because it was his own shine, around him. The rest didn’t particularly care.

And then, so quickly, so easily, the sensation popped like a soap bubble being poked, and the world came to an abrupt shift. Something snapped at his neck, and something tightened at his wrist and _pricked_ in a way that was not physical at all. There was a flare of his magic, the gold that hugged him tightly, as it sharpened and receded. Distantly, campfire warmth and jumping sparks flared back in alert. He reached out to them almost instinctively, almost yearning, but the brush of their magic was brief.

Louie’s eyes snapped open as he tried to stifle a mix of a groan and a gasp – in its place, his breath hitched with a squeak. Disoriented, he was overcome with confusion and a little bit of panic – the last thing he remembered was trying to get the book Xandra was trapped in, then something circling his neck…

His fingers ghosted over his neck. There was nothing there but the fabric of his hoodie pooling around his shoulders. No ribbon-like spell that collared over his neck.

He pushed himself up as he glanced around, trying to take stock on where he was. It appeared that he had been laid down on a three-seat sofa when he was… unconscious? The room he was in was brightly lit, despite the red glare of the setting sun, with white walls and pillars and tall ceiling. It was clearly a room belonging to a fancy mansion, but a brief glance told him it had nothing on Uncle Scrooge’s manor.

With a deep breath, he walked to the door and tried to open it as quietly as he could. The door opened with a faint click, its well-oiled hinges silent when he swung it and slipped out. The cold tiles didn’t muffle his steps as well as the carpeted floor in the manor, but he had spent his childhood tiptoeing around Uncle Donald’s boat when he and his brothers wanted to sneak out. He knew how to keep his steps silent.

Not much luck on escaping a mansion with a layout he barely even understood, though. Soon, as he turned a corner, he came face to face with Leopold.

“Uh, hi?” he offered. Leopold didn’t even acknowledge his greeting and reached out to grab him instead. With more agility than he would have thought he had, Louie ducked and slipped through Leopold’s defenses and all but bolted away. He didn’t bother trying to be silent anymore, with his feet padding loudly and echoing deafeningly along the seemingly endless corridors of the mansion.

The sound of flapping wings chased him. He forced himself to run faster.

He barely thought over his decision to jump to the handrail of the stairwell and slid down smoothly, using his hoodie’s fabric to protect his torso and hoping it would offer less friction than his feathers. He could tell the door to freedom wasn’t far – mansions like these always had the grand stairwell nearby the main door, probably to show off how grand and fancy the stairwell was. Hope swelled as he landed on the floor and took off running again.

The hope was dashed, soon, just as a cane came out of nowhere and stumbled him over, breaking his momentum as he fell face first to the floor, the remaining force of his run sending him thudding painfully as he landed. He’d managed to break his fall with his hands, his palms bearing the brunt of the force. A sharp pain on his right wrist made him cry. Had he twisted his wrist?

Felldrake stepped closer to him, and Louie jumped, feeling himself tremble under the sorcerer’s gaze. He tried to scoot back, but winced when the wrist throbbed. He gulped nervously.

“How did you break out of the spell?” Felldrake asked, his voice a rumble that hid a building storm underneath.

Louie gulped again. “I don’t – I don’t know.”

Felldrake squinted his eyes at him and lifted his cane, lighting its end with some sort of spell and pointing it to Louie’s chest. He drove it down. Just as Louie flinch, a shimmering, translucent dome formed around him and intercepted the cane. Louie blinked at it, and realized belatedly that the bracelet Webby had woven for him had a faint spark that disappeared just as Louie focused his attention to it.

“The charm,” Felldrake spat. “Of course you’d have that charm, too.”

Louie took in a deep breath and realized belatedly he had, at some point, stopped breathing. The dome dissipated as Felldrake took away his cane. He flinched when Leopold landed with a thud behind him.

“Bring him back to the room, Leopold,” Felldrake told the creature. “Lock the door this time.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Leopold answered. He grabbed Louie roughly by the shoulders, and Louie realized bitterly that the bracelet didn’t help much with physical attacks. Or maybe him being grabbed to be imprisoned wasn’t that high of a priority. Leopold flapped his wings and supported Louie surprisingly comfortably as he made his way to the stairwell.

Just as they reached the stairs, Leopold paused and turned to Felldrake. “…Daddy? When will I see Mommy?” he asked.

Felldrake paused, just long enough to be suspicious. “Soon,” he settled at last.

“Okay.” Without much more preamble, Leopold brought Louie back to the room he was kept in, and locked the door.

With gritted teeth, Louie went to the windows to see if he could escape through there. This was just the second floor, he was sure he wasn’t that high up.

With a sinking feeling, he realized he was wrong when he got to the window. For one, the ridiculously tall ceilings meant he was about as high as being on the third floor instead of second, and the window was locked. He growled in frustration and looked away from the window. His gaze scanned the room as he wondered if there was something he could use.

His gaze landed on the bed and the thin blanket on it.

Louie took a deep breath. Ignoring the throbbing pain at his wrist, he marched to the bed and started to plan his escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this one takes so long to write. on one hand, i moved to a new place because i was worried about the possibility of contracting covid due to my housemates' habit of going out and bringing guests with them (also, heyy, stay safe, wear a mask). also, i'm starting classes and ugh. statistics can be so tricky to get.  
> on the other hand, this chapter very much feels transitional, and transitional chapters were always my weakest point. get me to the moment and i can wax poetic about them! between those moments, though, i'm kinda just wondering what i'm supposed to do.


	7. The Search

_Fractured and wedged, scattered and gone._

* * *

The box Gyro and Fenton presented them didn’t look like much. It was small, about as big as a tennis ball, and made of metal, with sci-fi looking lines and blinking lights that Dewey was almost sure were there as much for aesthetics as they were for function. It had no screen, but Gyro and Fenton had found a way to wirelessly and automatically have the box connect to the tracking bracelets so they could track each other more easily, with it being able to amplify and catch signal in a much bigger area. They had also managed to make it magic-proof to a degree, though not as effectively as the bracelets themselves.

Which was helpful, considering they didn’t know where to find Louie, yet. Dewey flexed his wrist – it had been stiff for a whole night, now – and allowed hope to bloom in his chest.

“We made four of these,” Gyro said as he gestured to the table before them. “The prototype can’t make the bracelets broadcast the signal as strongly, but it’s functional. My advice is to have teams going with the better three and just don’t use the prototype.”

“Three teams, you say?” Uncle Scrooge muttered in something akin of displeasure.

Fenton seemed to sense it and shrugged. “I mean, we’d make more, but considering it’s only been about a day and a half it’s really a miracle we even managed to make three at all.”

Uncle Scrooge opened his mouth, looked at Fenton more closely, and closed it again. He probably noticed the dark circles around Fenton’s eyes and the way his fingers trembled.

Uncle Donald didn’t let it go. He squinted at Fenton and asked, “Fenton, how much coffee did you drink?”

Gyro jabbed a thumb at Fenton, looking unimpressed. “No, no, he didn’t drink much coffee. That was me who drank off all the bin’s coffee reserves. He’s been surviving off energy drinks.”

“Energy drinks gives me a really good boost,” Fenton said in monotone. He sounded like he wanted to boast but couldn’t muster the energy to. Which was ironic, to say the least, if Dewey had to say.

“And how much energy drinks have you drank while you worked on the… boxes?” Mom questioned.

Fenton blinked. “Uhhh.”

“The problem wasn’t how much he’s been drinking. It’s that he’s been surviving off energy drink for about three days because he’s been patrolling all night for a few days before we started working on these amplifiers,” Gyro answered nonchalantly as he opened his briefcase and took out more bracelets, a bit longer than the one Dewey already had. Fenton threw him a look of utter betrayal. He ignored it in favor of distributing the bracelets to the adults.

Uncle Donald stared at Fenton. He showed the scientist a look that Dewey had dubbed as his _I’m-disappointed-in-you-and-I-don’t-want-to-tell-you-because-you’ll-be-sad-but-I’m-going-to-make-you-feel-guilty-with-my-eyes_ look. Louie had put it succinctly as the _disappointed-dad_ look. Except not really because Uncle Donald was their uncle, but Dewey could see the point.

Fenton’s reaction was immediate – apparently, like most people, he was helpless to Uncle Donald’s _look_. “I had to patrol! There were weather villains. And I can’t not help with the amplifier!”

“Uh, I didn’t hear anything about any weather villain,” Huey commented skeptically.

Fenton huffed hotly. “Well, _you’re welcome_!”

Uncle Donald slapped his forehead and shook his head. “ _Go to sleep, Fenton_ ,” he said forcefully. “And can we go back to the search? How do we do this?”

“I’m good with people,” José said with a meaningful glint in his eyes. “I can take more urban areas.”

“I’m good with people too! I’ll go with José,” Panchito said cheerfully. He slung his arm around José’s shoulders, and the two shared a brief grin.

Uncle Donald hummed. “I’ll take coastal areas, then,” he said at last.

“I’ll go with you,” Xandra offered. “It’s best not to go alone.”

“I suppose… I can reach the more mountainous areas and fly up when necessary,” Mom mused. She glanced at Uncle Scrooge. “Will you go with me, Uncle Scrooge?”

“Of course, Lass,” Uncle Scrooge agreed easily. “As for the last one…” He glanced at Gyro.

Gyro sighed. “I’m going to monitor it here, in case the green nephew approaches.”

“Good. I’ll find it easier to leave the children here with Gizmoduck guarding.” He glanced at Fenton, frowned at how he nodded off and immediately shook his head to wake himself up. Uncle Scrooge shook his head and focused on the triplets and Webby instead. “With all of you monitoring the manor, I’m sure things will be fine here.”

“Wait, what?” Dewey blinked and stood up. “You want us to stay here while you all go out to track Louie down? We want to help find him!”

“Dewey – “

“We’ve gone with you in adventures before,” Huey cut in with a scowl. “We’re not useless.”

“I know,” Uncle Scrooge assured, “but nevertheless, we need people here.”

Webby chewed the inside of her cheek. “Well, leaving home base empty _is_ reckless and risky… but Gyro’s already here.”

Uncle Scrooge snorted. “Does he look like he can fight a sorcerer?”

Huey gave out an uncertain _um_ at the same time as Dewey’s begrudging _no_ and Webby’s quick _I don’t think so_.

“No offense, Gyro,” Huey added sheepishly.

The scientist just shrugged. “You’re not wrong. I haven’t magic-proofed my tech.”

“Oh.” Huey tilted his head. “Is that why you haven’t been bringing Lil’ Bulb around? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Partly,” Gyro admitted. “I’ve noticed he kept going offline around you kids even before you told me about the magic stuff. It’s easier to leave him at the lab instead.” He glared. “Try not to use your magic in my lab. I have a lot of delicate machineries there.”

“In any case, I want you kids to stay here,” Uncle Donald said, approaching. “We know Felldrake is dangerous. I’m not going to risk getting you kids hurt.”

“But Louie is – “

“I know Louie is with him,” Uncle Donald cut in, and Dewey’s mouth snapped close. “And I want him back as much as you. But I’m not going to risk your safety, alright?”

Dewey gritted his teeth and looked at Mom, hoping for her to support him. Instead, Mom grimaced and shook her head. “I’m sorry, honey, but I agree. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s dangerous for you, too,” Huey protested.

“More dangerous for you, since your control over your magic is still… shaky,” Mom said gently. “And now that we know Louie’s awake, too, we don’t want to risk anything. There’s always a chance of all your magic going haywire because one of you get panicked…”

Dewey stomped his feet and ignored how childish it made him felt. “You wouldn’t even know he’s awake if it wasn’t for us!”

“We can help. I have tracking badge from Junior Woodchuck!” Huey added.

José stepped in, a green glint in his eyes. “Now, now, children. I know it’s not fun to stay home, but we want you to be safe. So _stay put until we’re back_ , okay?”

Something snaked its way in and _gripped_ Dewey, tying off his protests and letting it wilt by his teeth before the words even formed. He gulped and said nothing, but he was aware of Huey frowning and Webby nodding jerkily.

“There’s no guarantee we will find Felldrake today, anyway,” Xandra mused, looking out the window. “If there’s anything we’ve learned about him by now, it’s that he’s slippery.”

“We’ll do our best, though! I can promise you that!” Panchito added cheerfully.

Mom knelt in front of him and cupped Dewey’s face in her hands. “We just want you to be safe,” she said, voice soft. “I know it’s hard, but please just stay. I promise it’s not because we think you’re useless.”

Dewey squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. He leaned into Mom’s touch, and she pulled him into a hug. Huey joined soon, his warmth seeping through Dewey’s clothes and feathers; and then, with hesitation, Webby, too, joined.

When Mom let go, she smiled at them. “We’ll be back soon.”

“And, Fenton, rest,” Uncle Donald said as he pointed at Fenton’s beak.

“But Scrooge said he needs Gizmoduck to guard – “

José sighed. “ _Go to bed, Fenton_.”

Fenton didn’t put up much fight, then. “ – yeah, okay,” he said, flopping to the couch and snoring almost immediately. Dewey and Huey both stared at Fenton, then at José, suddenly realizing that they didn’t know what sort of magic José had and how he used it.

“Oh, wait,” Webby said suddenly, rummaging her pockets and pulling out three bracelets. She offered them to José, Panchito, and Xandra. “I made these yesterday. Please stay safe.”

Xandra blinked in surprise, but Panchito reacted immediately. “Aww, you didn’t have to!” he said as he knelt down in front of Webby.

“But I wanted to,” Webby insisted. “These are for you, and José, and Xandra. Uncle Donald has one already.”

Panchito smiled warmly and took the red-and-cream bracelet, in which Webby had put in slivers of the same sea blue of Donald’s bracelet and a single green thread. “ _Muchas gracias, chiquita_. It’s beautiful.”

José stepped in and picked the green bracelet with slivers of red and blue. “Thank you so much, Webby. I’ll treasure this.”

When Xandra didn’t step forward to take the black-and-gold bracelet, Webby looked up at her, expectant. She jolted when Uncle Donald nudged her forward, and she took the bracelet. “I’m surprised you’re giving me this. People don’t usually bother making charms for me,” she admitted.

Webby huffed. “Well, maybe they’re wrong.”

Xandra laughed in response. “Thanks a lot, Webby. You’re really sweet.” She put on the bracelet immediately, and the woven threads clashed with the metal cuffs, but she didn’t seem to care much about it.

They watched as the adults leave, Dewey gripping the doorframe so tightly that his fingers hurt. A part of him wanted to sprint to the gate and follow them to town, helping the search however he could, but something held him back. Judging from Huey’s ever-present frown, he felt the same.

With a huff, Dewey marched inside and all but throw himself to a free seat at a sofa, glaring at the floor. Soon, Webby joined him, while Huey made himself comfortable at the foot of the couch Fenton was sleeping on. He opened his Junior Woodchucks Guidebook and started flipping the pages, though Dewey could tell he couldn’t concentrate enough to read.

Gyro poked at the box he had in front of him. It hummed to life, the lines and circles glowing softly. Dewey found himself staring at the box.

“Don’t feel too bad,” Gyro spoke up. “It’s not that bad, being here.”

Huey closed his guidebook with a snap. “We want to help,” he said.

“It’s not like we’re useless,” Dewey added. “We’ve helped, when we go with Uncle Scrooge to get treasure and whatever.”

Webby huffed. “It’s annoying. I know we’re young, but that doesn’t mean we can’t contribute.” She threw up her hands in frustration. “And after Lena, Violet, and I went to get information, too! I haven’t told the adults, but still – “

“I’m not saying you kids are useless,” Gyro said. “It’s not my intention at all. You’ve managed to stay alive while adventuring with Scrooge; clearly you’re not incapable.”

“Well clearly they don’t see it that way,” Huey huffed.

Gyro stared at them and took a deep breath. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, and for the first time, Dewey realized how tired he seemed. It was hard to tell, with the perpetual listlessness in his gaze, but when he really looked, he could see the slightest tremble in the scientist’ fingers and the extra blink he took every other blink, as if trying to steal blinks could equal a millisecond of sleep.

Gyro put the glasses back on. “Look, your family won’t be happy that I’m framing it this way, and I’m sure they don’t see it this way either, but here’s the thing. You’re going against a sorcerer, right? A really powerful one. And you can’t fight him with technology, because unless magic-proofed, tech will just go offline around him, and that’s if he doesn’t outright fry them first. So the only way to fight him will be with magic. Are you with me so far?”

Huey nodded warily. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Magic is rare, correct? And as far as we know, the people who we know for sure can use magic are out there looking for your brother, and you two.”

Dewey swallowed his discomfort and snapped, “Get to the point, Gyro. What are you trying to say?”

“If worse comes to worst and they all fail, who else can use magic to fight this sorcerer if not you?”

Webby sharply inhaled. Dewey ignored the sudden cold that snaked through his limbs, and knew without needing to look or probe Huey’s magic that he felt the same as him.

* * *

Louie’s hand hurt.

He knew he had been injured when he tried to run away. He just wasn’t sure on how badly he was injured. Now, looking at how his wrist had swollen, he knew how bad it was.

“I can’t believe I got my wrist sprained the moment I tried to run,” he muttered under his breath. He ignored the pain as much as he could, ripped a portion of the once-blanket he had been tearing to slivers, and wrapped it around the sprain. For once, he was grateful of the first aid lessons Huey got from Junior Woodchuck that he then drilled into both Louie and Dewey’s head under Uncle Donald’s keen eyes.

He’d been ripping the blanket and bedsheet into strips that he tied together to form a long rope for a while, now. He wasn’t sure how strong the makeshift rope would be, but he was willing to risk it. He stuffed the dry bread Felldrake had pushed into the room through a latch at the door into his mouth and gulped in the thin soup with the sorry looking veggies floating about in it, snatched the bottled water provided with the food and stuffed it into his pocket, and considered.

Okay. _Okay_.

He tied the bedsheet rope to the radiator, and he inwardly thanked whatever higher being was out there that he was put in a small room. He prayed to the same higher being that the radiator would be able to support his weight.

Right. Now the window problem.

He already checked before, but he pulled at the handles of the window anyway, trying to open it. The window only rattled, and Louie clicked his tongue. How to do this…

There was a thin spoon that was slipped in together with the food. With nothing else he could see that could potentially help, Louie took the spoon, inserted the flat end of it into the gap between the window and the frame, and did whatever he could to break the lock somehow. He was unsuccessful; the crappy spoon bent instead and the window was still closed.

Though, Felldrake had put a metal bucket in the room before, most likely so Louie could pee if he needed to. The bucket was still empty – he’d slept for a few hours and made his rope for a few hours more, ignoring his dinner all the while. The bucket would be useful for this, though.

He peered at the darkness outside. Dawn had yet to break, though he could tell the darkness was beginning to dissipate. Hoping the bucket wouldn’t make too much noise and Felldrake and Leopold both were heavy sleepers, Louie held the bucket, grimaced, and swung it as hard as he could to the glass.

It cracked upon impact, which Louie was surprised of. He thought it would take a lot more than that. He gritted his teeth and swung again, and this time, the window shattered.

He winced at the noise and tried to break as much of the leftover shards at the frame as he could, put down the now-dented bucket, then quickly threw the rope out. He wrapped his hands and feet sloppily with the some strips of cloth from the blanket and climbed out the window.

The rope was still too short, in the end. Louie took in a deep breath and let go of the rope, letting gravity help him traverse the leftover height – maybe about five to six feet, if Louie’s estimate was right – and he managed to land relatively harmlessly, all things considered. He put his hand wrong, though, and he bit back a cry when the pain in his wrist flared angrily.

There was no time to worry about that. He looked around, realized he was standing basically at a roadside, and ran parallel to the road as far as he was able.

* * *

Donald hadn’t realized how agitated he was until he stepped closer to the sea, hearing the crashing waves and feeling the push and pull of the water like a physical force, and let the ocean soothe his mind.

He noticed Xandra staring at him when he turned to look at the sea, seeing her peering at him from the edge of his vision. He stared back, asking, “What?”

“You needed this,” Xandra said simply. “I just realized, you need to be closer to the sea to get more stable. I forgot elementals like you need to be close to their respective elements.”

Donald scoffed. “It’s nothing that serious. I’m just calmer when I hear the waves.” He looked down and tinkered with the amplifier, and it hummed as it blinked to life. He checked the signals at the bracelet he wore, and sighed when he realized he didn’t see any sign of Louie.

“That’s another sign you need to be closer to the sea anyway, but okay,” Xandra muttered. “In any case, are you okay?”

Donald looked at her strangely. “What do you mean? Of course I am.”

“Donald, I’m a goddess. Magic is basically my bread and butter.” She tilted her head. “You magic hasn’t been stable since that last confrontation with Felldrake. Not even after you healed yourself with the orb.”

“It’s really not that bad. I’m just pissed he took my nephew.”

“Your angry doesn’t feel like this,” Xandra said, chasing the thread relentlessly. “When I first got here, you felt like calm sea. Your angry feels like coastal storm, usually. This time it feels more like the sea trying to build up a tidal wave.”

“Well they’ve never gone for my family before,” Donald said, walking off along the road by the coastline. “Once I get Louie back, Felldrake will get a pounding.”

“That’s not the only thing I want to talk to you about, Donald.” Xandra stopped him by gripping his shoulder and pulling back, forcing him to turn to look at her. “I’m not fully convinced Felldrake’s influence is wholly purged from you.”

“What? Do you still feel his magic wriggling about in mine or something?”

Xandra frowned. “Not… really…”

Donald shrugged her off irritably. “Then it’s gone. I mean, sure, I’m kind of more angry than usual, but that’s mostly because Felldrake took my nephew.”

“You weren’t like this before,” Xandra protested weakly.

“I didn’t have the kids, before,” Donald answered without missing a beat. He took a deep breath and let the sound of crashing waves calm him down. “Look, Xandra, it’s been a while since we last met. A lot of things have changed. And what you should know is, I’ll do anything to keep my family safe. I’ll do _anything_ to keep my kids safe. I don’t care at what cost.”

Xandra stared. “You don’t care at what cost,” she echoed softly.

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t your sister have problem with that?”

Donald’s beak snapped shut. The sea roared.

Xandra stared silently in wait.

“…let’s check that way,” Donald said instead, pointing away to the farther end of the coastline. “Maybe we’ll have better luck farther away from downtown. If Sheldgoose kept his house in New Quackmore, we’ll be better off looking around that way.”

Xandra sighed. “Alright,” she said, following Donald’s lead as he walked and kept an eye on the signals displayed by the bracelet.

They kept mostly silent, with Donald directing their way and Xandra asking the occasional questions as they walked. Just as they turned a corner, Donald stopped, and Xandra bumped into him.

“What? What is it?” Xandra asked, peering down to look at the bracelet’s display.

“I think it’s Louie’s signal,” Donald breathed, then took off.

He ran as fast as his feet could carry him, the roar of the sea empowering him until he was too far from the coastline to hear the crash of the waves. He could hear Xandra following, but his focus was on the blinking dot at the bracelet’s display and how the box seemed to whirr louder with each step he took.

A voice rang and broke his focus. “Donal’!”

He glanced to see José and Panchito running to him, and he lifted a brow as they joined his frantic sprint. “I thought you were looking in downtown,” he said between breaths.

“We saw the signal and followed it,” Panchito explained. “But I don’t think Scrooge and Della is around here.”

“We should be able to locate Louie soon – _there_!” José pointed, and Donald turned.

His eyes widened when he saw the small boy in green hoodie peering nervously at the streets. “ _Louie_!” he all but screamed.

Louie’s head snapped up and he looked at Donald with what he knew, from the bottom of his heart, was genuine surprise and relief. Even from afar, he could see Louie’s eyes water as he pulled at his hoodie, and Donald saw the tattered bandages around his hands and feet. He ran faster to the boy, just as the boy stumbled forward to meet him.

A shadow flew overhead. Hands grabbed Louie by the head and pushed him down, and he crashed into asphalt with a pained grunt, Leopold holding him down.

“Foolish boy,” Felldrake growled from Leopold’s back. “Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t have a way of tracking you down?”

“Get away from him, Felldrake!” Donald yelled, letting the ocean build in his chest and calling forth its power. The ocean was far away, but close enough to call – he could feel the seawater snake into the streets and rush to them.

Felldrake stared at Donald, blinking. Then his eyes grew hard. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The seawater reached them at last. It towered behind Donald like a wall. “And why not? What’s stopping me from washing you away right now?”

Felldrake glanced down. “Leopold.”

Leopold tightened his hold on Louie’s head. The boy cried in pain into the asphalt. With a growl, Donald let go of his control over the water, and the wall fell around them, sloshing and splashing angrily.

“Give him back,” Donald demanded.

“Careful,” Felldrake practically purred, “I can have his head crushed if I don’t like your tone.”

“Hey, let’s all calm down here,” José said, taking a tentative step ahead. “We only want the boy back, so we’ll appreciate it if you _release_ – “

“If you try to compel me, the boy gets it,” Felldrake cut in coldly. José’s beak snapped shut immediately. When Panchito took in a deep breath, Felldrake glanced at him and added, “It’s the same with you.”

“Felldrake, you’d better get your pet to release the boy now or I’ll _make_ him,” Xandra threatened.

In turn, Felldrake simply clicked his tongue. “Careful, _goddess_. You wouldn’t want a young boy’s blood on your hands, would you?”

Under Leopold, Louie stilled, pure fear in his eyes. Xandra scowled, but backed down when Donald pulled her back.

“What do you want with me?” Louie asked quietly. His voice trembled, and Donald felt his heart clench at the sight of him trying to keep himself from outright crying.

Felldrake leaned in to look at Louie in the eyes, and Leopold shifted to accommodate it. “Do you know how hard it is to find a gold touched child?” he asked back. “There aren’t a lot of you. And the ones that I found are incompatible. You’re the closest match I can find.”

Louie blinked at him. “…what?”

“No matter,” Felldrake dismissed, jumping off Leopold’s back. “You’re staying under this time. I won’t have you run away again.”

Donald could feel his feathers standing on end when the wind around Felldrake picked up with smoggy undertones in a cloudy night. The choking air intensified as light shone between Felldrake’s fingers, creating ribbon-like length that he threw at Louie. Louie flinched, but a part of Donald was relieved instead when he saw a translucent shield enveloping Louie. Webby’s charm had been effective. He rushed forward, wanting to take advantage of the bracelet’s shield to knock Felldrake and Leopold off so he could grab Louie.

Felldrake had another idea. He growled, and smoggy night sky bled to the ground around him, then it rose, rose, rose, forming the distant stars and rotting nebulas that soon swallowed the smoggy sky in its wake. He glared at Louie. “I am sick of that charm of yours,” he rumbled.

His hand struck out, and Louie tried to scramble away, but Leopold’s hold kept him in place. Felldrake’s hand hit the shield with a muted thump, but then the dying stars blazed and the shield melted around his fingers, allowing him access to Louie’s person.

Louie slapped Felldrake’s hand away as much as he could, but stopped with a whimpered squeak when Felldrake gripped his wrist and squeezed. His free hand grabbed the woven bracelet Webby made.

“Stop it, that’s a gift,” Louie protested weakly.

Felldrake didn’t respond. Ominous purple streaks bled through his feathers and dripped to Louie. The boy winced.

“I didn’t want to do this, but the situation called for it,” Felldrake said instead. His hand blazed with purple flames and he pulled.

Donald was close. Not close enough.

A blast of wind accompanied the booming magic Felldrake emitted. Faraway space swallowed the deserted streets and muffled the call of the sea Donald always felt deep in his bones. Blooming poisonous nebulas loomed and dying stars shone like silent judges. The blast of magic threw Donald back.

Felldrake looped a finger around the bracelet, hand blazing. He pulled with a grunt, and the bracelet was reduced into ashes.

The effect was immediate. Another blast, weaker this time, slapped Donald in the face. It felt distinctly like Webby in the inexplicable way it also _didn’t_. Webby may not have magic the way Donald had it, but he could feel her intention to protect in the now-destroyed bracelet scattering as it was reduced to ashes.

Louie cried in pain, feathers stained by dripped purple. Felldrake’s fingers trembled as he stood and _breathed_ , the purple streaking his feathers darkening like blood.

Felldrake called on the ribbon-like spell again. Louie struggled under Leopold’s weight, trying to get away, and he began to flow gold – he emitted so much fear and panic through his magic that Donald knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was calling his magic from pure instinct alone. The undercurrent of terror in Louie’s magic had him scrambling again to reach him.

Louie turned to look at him. “Uncle Donald – “ he called, voice strangled, hand outstretched to reach him. Donald reached back.

The ribbon-like spell circled around Louie’s neck and collared him once more. The boy gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, recoiling and curling into himself. Felldrake laid a hand over his eyes, and he went slack.

Donald called his magic once more, determined to get Louie back. Leopold flapped his wings once and slammed his tail into Donald’s midsection and had him thrown back, and he would have slammed into a wall if Xandra hadn’t caught him in time.

Felldrake grabbed Louie by the scruff of his hoodie and put him on Leopold’s back. “We’re going, Leopold,” he said.

“ _Wait_!” José yelled. Felldrake froze for a moment, but then the nebulas around them shone brighter and he shook off the effects of José’s magic and glared disdainfully.

“If any of you try to stop me, I’ll cut the boy’s fingers one by one,” he threatened. The looming nebulas and dying stars seemed to retract into him and disappeared as he climbed onto Leopold and had him flap his wings again.

“Get down here and fight us, you coward!” Xandra snarled.

“Xandra, stop,” Panchito said warily. “We don’t know if he’ll go through with it.”

Felldrake snorted. He patted Leopold’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“No – wait, no! _Louie_!” Donald pulled himself free of Xandra’s hold and ran ahead, his magic rising as his desperation grew. He gasped when José and Panchito grabbed him by the arms and pulled him back.

“Donal’, calm down! He’s already holding Louie by the neck!” José hissed in warning. Donald felt his breath hitch when he realized that, like José said, Felldrake had his hand on Louie’s neck. It creeped up to his head, grabbing a fistful of hair, as the other hand blazed purple. The purple light morphed into a blade of sorts.

Donald tamped down on his magic and forced it to still. The roar of the sea calmed into a whisper of uneasy waves in the eye of a hurricane.

Felldrake threw his hand down, and the purple blaze around it fell and bloomed around Leopold. It covered them as the swallowing sensation of the dying stars rose once more, then dissipated into nothing.

Donald wrenched himself out of his friends’ hold and let the hurricane out as he screamed and pounded at the asphalt.

* * *

In the manor, Webby stilled mid-word and she gripped her wrist, feeling her bracelet. Her eyes widened, then she frowned, breath shallow.

“Webby? What is it?” Huey asked, while Dewey stood and walked over to her. He jerked midstride with a gasp, eyes rolling back as he fell to the floor. From his spot, Huey let out a whimper as he, too, slumped over.

From his spot, Gyro scrambled to his feet and stepped closer to Dewey, who was closest to him. He glanced at Fenton, who was still out cold, wishing he was awake so he would have help with the kids. For the first time, it truly struck him how out of depth he was in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not time for louie to get back home yet, i'm afraid.
> 
> also, in case it's not clear in the story, breaking webby's charm harmed felldrake somewhat, which was why he didn't destroy the bracelet earlier.


	8. The Progression

_One lost to one’s own rage._

* * *

Della wasn’t one to really believe in twin telepathy between Donald and herself. Sure, the way she and Donald could communicate with magic was unique to them, but it wasn’t like they could really feel each other when they were in danger or could simultaneously trigger their magic the way the triplets could. Still, she couldn’t deny the times she would sometimes feel uneasy and later learned of her brother’s newest misfortune.

So when she suddenly felt something was wrong but couldn’t tell what, she paused and looked around uneasily.

“Lass? Is something wrong?” Uncle Scrooge asked.

“I… I’m not sure,” she answered uncertainly. Something niggled at the back of her mind. Was Donald okay? She took out her phone and opened the messaging app. “I’m checking in with Don, wait a bit.”

Their latest conversation popped up on the screen, and Della paused, rereading the texts that she had long since memorized since Donald stopped letting her twine her magic to his to communicate.

[3:09 PM] Idiot Bro:  
dell where are you?  
where are the kids?  
i called violet’s dads they’re not there like they said

[3:16 PM] Idiot Bro:  
did you actually bring them paragliding with you??  
you said the wind was too strong!

[3:22 PM] Idiot Bro:  
della answer your texts i need to know if the kids are okay

[3:27 PM] Idiot Bro:  
della!!  
answer!  
your!  
texts!!!

[3:32 PM] Me:  
the kids r fine  
dont worry 2 muhc  
were at funsos just playing around  
brb punching beagle boys

[3:33 PM] Idiot Bro:  
DELLA ISTG

How easy things seemed to be, then. Della took a deep breath and typed a new message for Donald.

[10:58 AM] Me:  
don r u ok?  
kinda feels like something is wrong

[11:07 AM] Me:  
don?

[11:10 AM] Me:  
don u usually answer right away whats going on

Donald didn’t answer. It made something curdle in her stomach, the worry and the unresolved tension from their fight snaking up to her heart and gripping. Just as she was about to send another message, her phone vibrated with a new message. It wasn’t from Donald like she had hoped, but instead from Panchito.

[11:13 AM] Fun Sombrero:  
della, we need to go back to the manor  
donald’s with me  
he’s not exactly responsive atm, so if you have questions ask me or josé  
he fried his phone with magic

[11:15 AM] Me:  
panchito?  
is something wrong  
why is his phone magic fried  
is he ok

[11:16] Fun Sombrero:  
we’ll tell you back in the manor

Della frowned, but replied a quick _ok_ and turned to Uncle Scrooge. “Panchito just told me to go back home. He’s with Donald.”

“Why do we need to go back?” Uncle Scrooge asked immediately.

Della shook her head. “I’m not sure either. Panchito said he’ll tell us in the manor. Let’s go.”

They made their way back quickly, and found they were the first of the search pairs to return. To add to her dismay, Della found Huey and Dewey gripping each other’s hands desperately, with Webby pacing with obvious discomfort around them. Gyro stared at them, at loss of what to do, while Fenton – awake at last – stared blearily as if he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“What happened here?” Uncle Scrooge demanded.

Gyro looked at him, opening his mouth and closing it again, then hedged, “The boys collapsed. I don’t know why.”

“Something is wrong with Louie,” Huey blurted.

“We don’t know what, but it’s weird,” Dewey added. He looked up to see her in the eye. “It sort of… hurts, but I don’t know how to explain.”

Della gulped. “Oh, honey,” she murmured, stepping forward and stretching out her hands to cup Dewey’s face, but stopped when he flinched at the sight of her fingers. She let her hands dropped. “Dewey?”

“Sorry, but… can you maybe not touch us for now?” Huey asked weakly. “Being touched makes it worse.”

Della struggled to not let the boys see how she felt her heart shatter.

Uncle Scrooge, meanwhile, directed his attention to Webby. Webby tilted her head up to meet his gaze and frowned at the unspoken question he directed her.

“I think… the bracelet I gave Louie got damaged,” she said. “Um, wait, no. I think it was… basically obliterated?”

Uncle Scrooge frowned. “How?”

Webby shook her head, clearly at a loss.

The room burst open, then, and Donald, Panchito, José, and Xandra stepped in. This close, Della could feel Donald’s magic churning, like the ocean after a storm, with the water not yet calm. He spotted Gyro and made a beeline to him, then thrusted his phone at him.

“Can you fix it? And make it magic-proof?” he asked.

Gyro blinked, once, twice. Most likely processing Donald’s words, since he wasn’t as adept as translating his scratchy squawk like the rest of them. Then he opened his mouth and answered, “Uh, yes, of course.” He took the phone, tried to turn it on, and frowned at Donald. “What did you do to it?”

“Magic,” Donald said simply, and Gyro sighed. Fenton wobbly walked to his side and started helping him, already looking better despite still looking like he wasn’t fully awake yet.

“What happened?” Della demanded, eyes darting from Donald to José to Panchito.

Xandra was the one who ended up explaining. With each word she spoke, Della felt her limbs grow colder and colder until she felt numb to the core. She stumbled back and felt Uncle Scrooge guide her to a chair and let him sit her down.

“He got out,” Della breathed. “And he got recaptured.”

“And Felldrake burned Webby’s bracelet, and Louie’s unresponsive last time I checked,” Donald rumbled. Gyro handed him his phone, and he opened it, satisfied to see it functioning normally. He nodded his thanks and turned to the door.

“Donald? Where are you going?”

“Out,” Donald snarled. “I need to cool off.”

José, Panchito, and Xandra exchanged glances, then the two men followed Donald’s pace. “You shouldn’t be alone. Let us go with you,” José said, expertly ignoring Donald’s glare and interlocking their elbows together. “Come on, my friend, let’s take a walk.”

“I want to be alone,” Donald protested.

“And that is how we know you shouldn’t be alone,” Panchito quipped easily, then interlocked his own elbow with Donald’s free one. “The manor’s big enough to walk around in and there’s always the forest nearby, if you want to yell. Let’s go.”

As she watched them walk away, Della desperately poked at Donald’s magic, missing the way they could support each other without needing to even look at each other through the connection only they could use. She felt Donald’s magic give pause, but he didn’t let his magic poke back, didn’t let his magic twine into hers. Instead he gave a magical equivalent of shrugging her hand off his shoulder and walked off, and Della didn’t know what crushed her more, him rejecting her offered hand or Louie, once so close to home only to be wrenched away at the last second.

Silence descended in the room after the Caballeros’ departure, and after a moment, Uncle Scrooge took a deep breath. “At least we know the device works well,” he said. He took out a map of Duckburg and waved Xandra over. “Can you pinpoint where the… confrontation happened, exactly?”

Xandra hummed and circled an area with her finger, not too far away from the coastline, nearly at the edge of the map. “Around here,” she said. “Donald wanted to investigate closer to New Quackmore Institute, in case Sheldgoose kept his property around. I think he’s right in his suspicion.”

Uncle Scrooge made a voice that was partly a sigh and partly a growl. “I don’t have much power in New Quackmore,” he muttered. “Not much connection there, either. I wonder…”

Webby stepped closer, muttering a soft _um_ , and they turned to look at her. She looked up and asked, “Do we have to try to look there?”

“Well, no, it’s just that we probably have better chance looking there,” Xandra answered simply. “Why? Do you have another idea?”

“Well, um. Funny story.” Webby wrung her hands together, eyes darting to Uncle Scrooge for a moment. “See, Uncle Scrooge has a lot of enemies, right? And some of them has connections to magic. And, well, I have a friend who is also, coincidentally, connected to one of them. Things lead to another, and then, boom, suddenly you find out your best friend was a shadow of a magician, and…”

“Webby,” Uncle Scrooge cut in gently, “are you talking about Magica?”

“Uh, yes?” Webby grimaced. “Lena and Violet and I might have kinda sorta looked for her and we talked a bit about what she knew about Felldrake? We might have a better chance if bring her in?” She cringed and waved her hand around. “But we don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

Uncle Scrooge stared for a moment and rubbed his neck. “No, you have a point,” he conceded. “Truth to be told, I asked someone for help, too. Mostly for information. Perhaps it’s best if we call them in, or meet them somewhere neutral.”

“Somewhere neutral?” Webby echoed.

“I’m not trusting Magica to be around in my house, magic or no magic,” Uncle Scrooge scoffed. “She’s too much of a trouble for me to be that reckless.”

Dewey shifted in his spot, and Della could see that he and Huey had finally started to loosen their grip on each other’s hands.

Huey was the one who ended up talking first. “Who did you ask for help, Uncle Scrooge?”

Uncle Scrooge coughed. “It was Goldie.”

Webby blinked. “Oh. Isn’t she your, you know… lady friend?”

“She’s a friend, yes.”

Della coughed into her elbow to stop herself from laughing. Dewey didn’t have as much tact, and he protested, “Uncle Scrooge, we saw how you danced with her. You don’t dance like that with someone who’s just friends with you.”

Uncle Scrooge shook his head and rolled the Duckburg map up. “I’m not discussing this with you kids, especially not right now. In any case, we should find somewhere we can all meet up.”

“Where’s safe enough for it?” Della asked.

Uncle Scrooge’s fingers drummed over his cane. “I’m not sure if I would qualify it as _safe_ , per se,” he said.

Della, having known Uncle Scrooge the longest, was immediately on her guard. “Uncle Scrooge, I don’t like the way you’re looking at me right now.”

“Well, I suppose if we want to make sure no one is having unfair advantage, we can either sail them as far away from land as we want or fly them up to the sky,” Uncle Scrooge said with a shrug.

Della rubbed her eyes with her palms. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. _We_ would be the ones having the unfair advantage, Uncle Scrooge.”

“Well, that’s the idea.”

“Magica wouldn’t agree if she thinks we’re threatening her!”

“Here’s an idea; how about we do _neither_?” Xandra piped up. “You have me around, I can totally help make sure no one’s pulling any trick.” She tilted her head in thought. “And if you can place us someplace near water, Donald will still have an advantage. As long as you don’t put him near the sea, any magician who hasn’t seen him use his amulet when he uses magic shouldn’t be able to tell he can control other bodies of water.”

Uncle Scrooge hummed. “I suppose that’s a solid plan,” he conceded. “Now then, I should contact Goldie to arrange the meeting.”

Webby took out her phone. “I guess I should tell Lena and Violet too, then. Then we can go arrange things with Magica.”

Della took a deep breath and glanced at Huey and Dewey, who had by now released their hands. They looked a bit calmer, now, though they still seemed tired.

She just hoped that, with this, things would start to look up.

* * *

[10:58 AM] Dumbest Sis:  
don r u ok?  
kinda feels like something is wrong

[11:07 AM] Dumbest Sis:  
don?

[11:10 AM] Dumbest Sis:  
don u usually answer right away whats going on

Donald stared quietly at the latest texts from Della, then silently tapped the _back_ icon to look at his other messages. His gaze fell on Louie’s name, and he tapped it, reading the last conversation they had on the phone.

[9:23 AM] Louie:  
uncle donald can i borrow your toolbox for a bit

[9:24 AM] Me:  
sure, but what for?  
is this another one of your schemes

[9:24 AM] Louie:  
no?  
…yes

[9:25 AM] Me:  
i’ll let you borrow it but only if i’m there so i can make sure you don’t hit yourself with a hammer

[9:25 AM] Louie:  
thansk uncle donald you’re the best!!  
i’ll get to the boat soon

Donald closed his eyes as he exited the messaging app. What he wouldn’t give to get Louie back…

He turned when Panchito sat at his side. The rooster offered him a smile. “Are you calm yet?”

“I’m better,” he admitted. “I can think more clearly now.”

“Good, good,” Panchito nodded. “We need you to be able to do that.”

“Yeah.” Donald pushed the phone back into his pocket. “I need to keep my head clear. In any case, I think we can try tracking him again now.”

José, who had been idly standing by, turned to him. “Are you sure, Donal’? I can’t imagine Felldrake not having obstructed his trail somehow.”

“We decided to get back here to regroup for a bit, remember?” Panchito coaxed.

Donald stared at them, blinking. “…oh,” he said at length. “I don’t remember that part about regrouping.”

“That’s okay, you were tired from spending your magic. That’s another reason you should stay here and rest a little,” José said. “You’re not going to help if you pass out from exhaustion.”

Donald grunted. “It feels like wasting time. Louie doesn’t have time.”

“Look at it this way,” José coaxed, “if you’re well rested, surely you can be of more help to Louie.”

“Sure, but Louie isn’t here right now, and that’s the whole point,” Donald argued.

Panchito stared for a minute, then he snorted as he looked away.

Donald stared. “What.”

“Nothing,” Panchito shook his head. “I just realized why exactly you and Della haven’t made up yet.”

From the edge of his vision, Donald could see José shook his head warningly. Donald ignored him and glared at Panchito. “What of it?”

Panchito let out a humorless laugh, and José sighed in exasperation. “Oh, it’s nothing. What you’re fighting with Della isn’t my business,” Panchito answered. “It’s just… _Dios mío_ , Don. You’re so fucking _stubborn_.”

“Look, I just want to make sure my kid gets home safe,” Donald growled defensively. “If you’re not interested in doing that, no one’s stopping you from walking away.”

José stiffened at that. “If you’re accusing us of not caring about Louie, I hope you’re ready to take that back.”

“I’m not saying you don’t care about him, but I was the one who raised him. It’s different.”

“And that makes us care less?” José, once looking the calmest among them, now looked downright livid. He shook his head. “Della was right. You _are_ selfish.”

Donald felt his magic rise with his anger and let it bubble to the surface. “You – “

“You _are_!” José cut in. “You’re assuming you’re the only one who cares Louie is taken. You’re not. You think Della isn’t doing more because she doesn’t care. She does. But she also needs to be strong for Huey and Dewey, and have you been thinking about _them_?”

Donald stood and jabbed a finger into José’s chest. “Don’t you start that shit, José. I always want the best for them, and right now what’s best is to bring the triplets together. You _know_ their magic are intertwined. You can feel that as well as I do; you’re the one with the best magic sense. If I want them to stabilize and be safe from their own magic, I need to get Louie back. That’s top priority right now.”

“Funny how you say that and are all for letting yourself crash and burn,” José spat.

“As long as they’re safe and sound – “

“And then what?” José cut in. “I’ve heard this all before. You don’t care what happens to you; _fine_. Be like that. But what about the kids? You’re delusional if you think what’s best for them is to lose you.”

Donald’s magic rushed. The dormant _push and pull, push and pull_ at the back of his mind roared to the forefront, and he was vaguely aware of how the air around them grew more and more humid until a fine mist gathered around him, dripping into dews in his feathers. He knew he was blazing blue, and normally people would have backed away by now, but José stood his ground with fire in his eyes, glowing softly green as the feeling of sunset and faint jazz rose little by little.

Something that felt distinctly red and loud and boisterous and reminded Donald of parties and laughter spiked up, angry instead of joyful. A piercing whistle cut through the air. Too loud, too piercing, it stabbed into Donald’s head with almost a physical force, and for a moment his vision was clouded with black.

When he blinked his eyes open, he was laying on the ground, Panchito sitting cross-legged next to him with José pointedly looking away.

“Sorry for knocking you out,” Panchito said, “but I can’t let you hurt José.”

Donald blinked and stared at him. He felt strangely calm. “What’s stopping me from doing anything now?” he asked, partly in challenge and partly in genuine curiosity.

Panchito shrugged. “I sang to you,” he admitted, and Donald sighed. Panchito had used his magic to forcibly calm him down. Of course.

“And what’s stopping me from doing anything later after the effect has passed?” Donald challenged again.

Panchito stared for a moment. “I told you, if you fly off I’ll knock you out and tie you to a chair,” he said. “This counts. If you do anything like that again, I’ll knock you out and bring you to the manor so Scrooge can keep you locked up in a room somewhere.”

“I can slough off your magic easily. There wouldn’t be enough time for you to lock me up.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t _try_.”

His own anger sparked again and worn down the forced calm Panchito’s spell had left him in. “I need to bring back – “

“I know!” Panchito snapped. “For fuck’s sake, Donald, listen for once. How many times do you need to have the same argument? This is what happens when you run yourself ragged. You get stubborn and you stop listening!” He huffed. “All we’re saying is we don’t want to trade your life for Louie’s, we want you both alive. So stop trying to go out alone and get yourself killed!”

The anger receded by itself, and the forced calm melted away. Donald blinked and stared, unsure of what to think, what to feel. Part of him wondered if Panchito’s magic forced him to feel this way, but he quashed the thought away. He knew Panchito and he knew his magic. This wasn’t Panchito trying to make him feel a certain way, this was Donald finding himself suddenly out of depth when confronted with a problem he hadn’t realized was one in the first place.

“I’m not going to get myself killed,” he said, mostly so the thick silence that ensued was broken.

José turned to look at him. “Good,” he said stiffly. “Because if you do get killed I’ll bring you back to kill you myself.”

Donald huffed out a laugh and sat up. A stubborn part of him that refused to back down wondered what would happen if he just went off by himself anyway, get the more advanced gears he used as Paperinik to hunt Felldrake down himself. He pushed the thought away, knowing it wouldn’t be fair to his family and friends – not to mention the gears would probably get fried off the moment magic was involved, anyway.

Instead, he focused his mind on Felldrake. “He looked like it didn’t register when I called him by his name,” he blurted. He looked up and met Panchito and José’s questioning gazes, and realized belatedly how confusing his sudden statement was. “Felldrake, I mean. When I called him, he looked like he didn’t realize I was calling him at first.”

“He did?” Panchito asked with a blink.

José tilted his head in thought. “His magic felt different, too,” he noted. “It’s… space, sure, but before it’s space it’s… night sky? Uh, dirty night sky? Smoky? Is that the word?”

“Smog?” Panchito supplied with a questioning glace to Donald, who just shrugged in return.

“Yes, that.”

Donald frowned. “Wasn’t that… Sheldgoose’s?”

Both José and Panchito froze. “Oh, shit,” Panchito breathed.

“Wait a moment, I thought you said that was all Felldrake,” José protested.

“That’s my impression because he made it sound like that,” Donald explained. “But if the magic feels like Sheldgoose’s, I guess… he’s still there?”

“Must have been terrible to get buried under Felldrake’s personality,” Panchito remarked jokingly. Then he paused and shuddered. “Oh, that’s a terrible way to go.”

“I wonder if it’s possible to separate them,” Donald mused. “Seal Felldrake somewhere else.”

“Xandra might know, but why?” José asked.

Donald shrugged. “I mean, I don’t like Sheldgoose either, but even he doesn’t deserve being imprisoned in his own body because some ass like Felldrake takes over.”

José considered. “Alright, that’s a good point.”

“Anyway, I think we should head back now,” Panchito said. He turned to Donald. “Are you okay with that? Are you cool enough to go back?”

“Panchito, I might be wrong, but I don’t think that’s how you use the word _cool_ ,” José said with a frown.

“It’s okay, we both know what he means,” Donald said. “Let’s go back.”

* * *

The spell around his neck felt heavy and stifling. Louie let it be, knowing it was no use trying to break it off – he’d tried. It was also the case with the heavy cuff around his ankle, which chained him to the wall behind his back.

At least the pain had mostly subsided. Sure, he was tired and sluggish and basically had no way of accessing his magic for now, but it was… okay? Mostly? Better than the pain that made him unable to move and wished he could pass out instead, for sure. He was infinitely grateful _that_ didn’t last for long.

He glanced up at Leopold, who was placed there with him as a guard. Louie knew that he was in the same mansion he had been imprisoned before, since he checked just as they returned, but he wasn’t sure where exactly in the mansion he was. The room was basically a witch’s dungeon, with shelves lined with curiously bright liquid inside ornate bottles and tomes of varying sizes, all looking old. If Louie guessed right, some of them were bound with leather – _what_ leather, he didn’t really want to speculate.

Leopold, for his part, was doing an uncomfortably excellent job at keeping an eye on Louie. His gaze never left. Louie didn’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable for this long before. He flexed his fingers and wrung them together, suddenly desperate for something to hold. He should have brought his khopesh with him. Instead he had to be content with empty hands and a hecking collar around his neck. The fact that Webby’s charm was gone was another hit he wished he didn’t have to bear. At least the GPS bracelet from Fenton and Gyro was still intact. Louie just hoped it was still functional and not magically fried. He hadn’t checked.

Louie dug as deep as he could to reach Huey and Dewey. It felt like slogging through mud. He thought he touched on faint traces of Huey’s warmth and Dewey’s sparks, but he couldn’t be sure. He bit his tongue and pushed down the tears that started to gather in his eyes. He missed them so much.

The heavy wooden door lined with iron swung open with a creak, and Felldrake stepped inside. His eyes found Louie, and he walked over.

“Daddy!” Leopold greeted, eyes leaving Louie at last. “Can I see Mommy, Daddy? Can I?”

“Later, Leopold,” Felldrake promised, and continued his way to Louie.

Louie scooted back as far as he could, but it was a few inches at most. His back hit the wall, and he pressed himself as flat as he could as Felldrake breached into his space and grabbed his hand. He struggled immediately, but Felldrake’s hold was tight and unforgiving. Dying stars and poisonous nebula bloomed around him.

“I should have kept you under,” he grumbled.

Louie gulped. He clawed Felldrake’s hand away, but he only tightened his hold.

Felldrake eyed him searchingly and flicked his hand away. He stood and walked over to the shelves, still bleeding the outer space into the air.

“Why – why are you keeping me here?” Louie blurted. As afraid as he was, he really was curious about that. “Why me, specifically?”

“Gold-touched people are rare,” Felldrake replied easily. “I need your magic.” He glanced. “The fact that you’re clearly making the blue Caballero unstable is a nice bonus.”

Louie blinked. “What – “

Felldrake levelled him an unimpressed stare. “I am sealed inside a body that did not previously have magic until I unlocked it for him by gifting him my power. I’m operating with only a fraction of my power. I need all advantages I can get.”

Louie thought of the collar around his neck and the fact that Felldrake had broken the barrier around the manor and suppressed a shudder. If that was only a fraction of his power, Louie wasn’t sure he wanted to know how powerful Felldrake was at his fullest.

He pushed through the fear and asked again, “But why me? Why a gold-touched person?”

“I need a strong gold-touched person,” Felldrake answered simply. He turned, and when his gaze met Louie’s, he sported an uncomfortably wide smile, all teeth. “And you have strong magic from a bloodline full of it. It would be nice if you’re still alive when this is over. There are many things I can do with you.”

“If… I’m still alive,” Louie echoed weakly.

“Others did not survive,” Felldrake elaborated simply, like he was only informing Louie that rain was just water in the air condensing and falling back to earth, and boy did Louie _not_ need that elaboration. The sorcerer turned away and took a tome and began flipping.

“How many people have you killed? Do you even have a heart?” Louie blurted.

The stars and nebula around Felldrake changed abruptly into cloudy night sky drenched in smog. Louie stiffened at the change. Felldrake turned to him again, eyes wide, and this time he seemed both shocked and afraid instead of haughtily disdainful. The smog-filled sky flickered back into the poisoned outer space and Felldrake straightened up, fear-laced eyes gone and turned cold. He closed the tome in his hand with a loud thump, and Louie flinched.

“Hearts don’t win you back your magic and functional corporeal form,” he said icily. “Keep your tongue for yourself, golden duckling, or I’ll find a way to carve out _your_ heart.”

Despite his better judgement, Louie murmured, “I thought you said you needed me alive.”

Felldrake’s smile was wide and saccharine sweet. “Koschei carved his heart out to avoid death. What makes you think I can’t perform that spell for you?”

Louie kept his beak shut and let his voice die in his throat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> felldrake is alluding to the russian story, death of koschei the deathless. in that story, koschei carves out his heart and hides it elsewhere and stays alive basically forever. i don't think louie really understood the reference, but he could tell things weren't looking good for him.
> 
> also, della totally puts her contacts that way. donald is idiot bro, panchito is fun sombrero, josé is trumpet umbrella. huey, dewey, louie are placed as huey (red triplet), dewey (blue triplet), and louie (green triplet), which was a leftover from the time she had to remember and tell them apart when she got back from the moon. webby's contact is saved as webby (pink triplet).  
> donald's contacts list is a lot more organized since he has to call a lot of people, being the triplets' guardian and all. the exception is della, whose contact is saved as dumbest sis, and scrooge, who he and della both saved as Uncle Stingy McRichduck.


	9. The Movement

_Fate’s ties frayed._

* * *

The clearing was bright and wide, with the stream cutting through it in a calm trickle. It called to Donald, the water, and it soothed a part of him that had been building up tension, like a bowstring wound too tight and ready to snap. The clearing was beautiful, the stream calming, the day an overall good day, if not for the uneasy alliance Scrooge was proposing to the magician that has yet to arrive.

Donald had protested long and hard at the proposed alliance, but ultimately his concerns had been vetoed. Grudgingly, he admitted that they needed outside help to locate Louie. He just wished said help didn’t have to be in the form of Magica de Spell, of all people.

“It’s going to be okay, Don,” Della said. Things had been awkward with them, but she had been quick to soothe his worries. “I like this about as much as you, but we need their help.”

“I don’t mind Goldie helping. She likes Louie,” Donald growled, and noticed from the corner of his eyes Goldie pausing her conversation with Uncle Scrooge to spare him a quick glance. “It’s Magica I don’t trust. She’s threatened Louie before.”

“It’s okay, I’ve bargained with her,” Lena, who was there to help smooth the negotiations because Magica demanded her be there, interjected. “I can do it again.”

Donald stared at her for a moment – not long, but apparently long enough to make her shift uneasily. He sighed. “We shouldn’t have put you in that position to begin with.”

Lena blinked at him with a soft _um_. Donald wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t understand his words or if what he said had surprised her. Maybe a little bit of both.

Violet slipped to Lena’s side and took her hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll be here with you,” she said, nodding to Webby.

Webby nodded back. “If Magica tries anything, I’ll punch her in the beak.”

Donald hid his laughter with a cough. He forgot, sometimes, how endearing Webby’s readiness to defend her friends was.

He turned to check on Huey and Dewey, who were talking to José and Panchito. They saw him look and gave a small wave, and he nodded. “How’s your magic?” he asked, remembering how their magic had grown unstable before.

“It’s better,” Huey said. “We don’t flare out suddenly anymore. But…” he glanced at Dewey for a clue.

“Kind of weirdly inactive,” Dewey supplied. “It gets a bit hard to generate static.”

“And a bit hard to reach Louie, too,” Huey added. “Usually it’s really easy.”

“It would be a surprise if you can do magic easily now. You don’t have the complete set.”

Donald turned to the thick of the trees, and saw that Magica was making her way out to the clearing. The dark robe she wore masked her form in the shadows, and she stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness of the sun.

Della asked with a frown, “What do you mean, complete set?”

“They are triplets, no?” Magica asked back easily. “And yet there are only two.”

“Oh, enough with the blabbering nonsense,” Uncle Scrooge cut in. “What can you tell us about this Felldrake fellow?”

Magica lifted a brow at him. “You’re the one who needs my help, and this is how you’re treating me? Your age must have eroded away your manners, Scrooge. _If_ you even had some in the first place.”

Goldie let out a small laugh. “She has a point, Scroogie. What is it with you and treating people as you like?”

“I don’t have the patience to be buddies with _Magica_ right now. I have a nephew to get.”

“Ah, yes, the little gold-touched child,” Magica said. “The girls told me about the whole fiasco. How does it feel like, _Scroogie_ , to have lost a nephew?”

“I have not lost a nephew. He was taken and I’m in the process of getting him back,” Uncle Scrooge growled. Sensing the atmosphere getting tense, Donald nudged Della and gestured to her to handle the situation.

Della responded quickly. “Oookay, let’s not get snappy,” she said as she stepped to the middle, right between Uncle Scrooge and Magica. “So! In the spirit of keeping things cool, let’s start with introductions. Hi, I’m Della!”

“I already know who you are,” Magica said coldly.

“Well, some people might not know each other!” Della argued cheerfully. “Have you met Xandra? She’s the goddess of adventure, isn’t that neat?” She gestured at Xandra, who waved with a cheery _hi!_ to Magica and Goldie both. Goldie smiled and waved back, but Magica turned up her nose.

“I’ve heard of you,” she said. “I’m sorry to tell you, but no one here has even a fraction of a chance to defeat Felldrake. Even your goddess has been defeated before.”

“Hey, we got Felldrake sealed again,” Xandra protested.

“And he has roamed again because the seal was not as strong as it should be,” Magica shot back. “This is exercise in futility.”

Lena sighed. “Magica, I thought I asked you to play nice. I won’t even consider the possibility of finding a way to return your magic to you if this is how you’re going to be like.”

Magica rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying this because I want to be _mean_. They literally have no chance of defeating Felldrake. Only three chosen warriors has even the slightest of chances of defeating him, and they have not been seen in years.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Donald said.

Magica stared then huffed. “I have no idea what you just said.”

“He said, that won’t be a problem,” Panchito repeated for Donald. He pulled his amulet out of the protective folds of his clothes and let it thump softly against his chest. José did the same, and Donald followed. Xandra shifted on her feet, a lazy grin overtaking her face as she called forth her golden glow, which quickly offset the Caballero’s, for a moment.

“They’re _my_ chosen warriors,” she said proudly, like a mother cat showing off her litter.

Magica blinked. “Huh,” she said at length. “That makes more sense than I expected. Perhaps you have hope of succeeding, after all.”

“What do you mean, it makes sense?” Della asked.

“I’ve heard rumors of the blue Caballero having water magic. I’ve felt your twin use the sea.”

“This is interesting and all, but how do we get Louie back?” Dewey cut in impatiently.

“If he has access to a magical artefact that is able to grant his wish, he might be able to do that,” Xandra said with a shrug. “The problem is, I’m no expert with them. Do any of you know?”

“As a matter of fact, I did find something,” Goldie said, reaching to take her backpack off and take out a scroll. “It’s only a rumor, but if this is real, it’s probably our best chance of getting ahead of this… whoever this sorcerer is.” She unrolled the scroll. “It’s called the Well of Wishes.”

Magica scoffed. “The Well of Wishes is a bedtime story.”

“Oh, it’s real,” Xandra interjected.

“I thought you just said you’re not an expert,” José said, half teasing and half exasperated fondness.

“I’m not, I just know which ones are real and which ones aren’t,” Xandra said with a shrug. “Some things are real and some things are just myths.”

“But the Well of Wishes is real, which means we can find it,” Uncle Scrooge said, eyes glinting. “What does it do? I’m assuming it can grant you a wish.”

“Yes,” Goldie said. “But apparently finding it is a difficult task in the first place, so that’s going to be a challenge.”

“But it’s not impossible?” Dewey asked.

“Honey. If you know anything by now, it’s that _nothing_ is impossible when you have your family involved,” Della said, shaking her head.

“And it really isn’t impossible,” Goldie added. “If this scroll is correct, we only need to find the location and find a good timing. Apparently you can only access it during a full moon when the morning star shines over the sea.” She tilted her head. “So… full moon and Venus at the same time. Probably at dawn. Now the problem is that we don’t know when that particular astronomical event will happen – “

“Two days from now,” Donald, Della, and Huey all blurted at once. When the others stared at them, Della shrugged.

“I like the sky,” she explained plainly.

“I’m trying to get my astronomy badge,” Huey added.

Donald just shrugged. “It’s useful to know a thing or two about stars for sailing.”

“But you don’t need to follow with news about what will happen, though?” Dewey said.

“Della used to hound me about it for days and it’s faster to shut her up if I already know. The habit stuck.”

“Okay, back to the Well,” Uncle Scrooge said in annoyance. “How do we find it?”

“The challenge isn’t really how to find it, but how to open it,” Magica cut in. “Legend has it only certain kinds of magic can coax the Well to reveal itself, and only when paired with certain treasures.” She tapped her beak in thought. “From what I heard, riches related magic works best with water or mirror related objects. Or perhaps it was the other way around.”

Webby’s eyes widened. “That’s why he took Louie and the Mirror of Breaking. Gold and mirror.”

“Kinda random, though, don’t you think?” Lena mused. “Sure, the little guy has gold magic. But why him, and why that mirror?”

“I don’t think it’s random,” Xandra said. “If I remember correctly, the Mirror of Breaking will only activate if it receives a drop of gold-touched blood. And it _does_ have the power to break curses and strong spells. Since the shrouding the Well has is some sort of a protective spell, too, it sort of works.” She hummed. “And as far as I know, gold-touched people _do_ have better chance of getting the Well to appear.”

“So Louie had been targeted from the start?” Violet asked, looking disturbed. “How does Felldrake even know Louie has gold magic?”

“I don’t know if he’s known or he saw Louie use magic then decided to nab him then and there, but the result is that he’s now gone,” Donald growled. “I’ll make Felldrake pay for that.”

“Okay, slow down, _amigo_.” Panchito put his hand on Donald’s shoulder. “First we have to find the Well.”

“We have the seeds to the Money Tree of Orromorrus,” Uncle Scrooge said. “And you have sea magic.” He stared straight and Donald.

“We can try that,” Donald agreed.

“One more thing,” Goldie piped up. “The scroll says the Well will grant one wish, any wish, when it appears, and it will disappear again until the next time the full moon and the morning star appears together again. If you want to be sure, maybe you’ll want to use up the wish quota so Felldrake can’t use it.”

“What do we use it for?” Webby hummed.

“More adventures?” Dewey suggested.

“No, no, you kids don’t get to wish for more adventures, I’ll die from heart attack at this point. The things you get into…” Donald shook his head.

“What you wish for isn’t important as long as you use the wish, is it? You could wish for a lifetime supply of cake and that’s still okay,” José pointed out.

“You’re getting a free wish-comes-true card and you’re using it for cakes?” Huey yelled scandalously.

“Hey, it’s just a suggestion.”

“In any case, will it work? Donald and the seed?” Panchito asked, turning to Xandra.

“Not as well as a gold-touched person’s magic paired with the Mirror of Breaking, but yes,” Xasndra answered readily. “To be fair, though, it’s not a sure thing either with gold and the mirror, unless there’s a way to amplify their magic to an exponential level. With Donald, the amulet helps boost his magic and he can also draw raw power from the Caballero bond.”

“And what happens if the magic isn’t strong enough?” Donald asked warily. He wasn’t wholly sure he’d like the answer, but he needed to know.

Xandra’s brief silence felt like it stretched forever. “Best case scenario,” she said at last, “would be… dying.”

The answer made Donald’s blood run cold, but he went ahead and asked anyway, “And what would be the worst case scenario?”

Xandra stared for a moment and gave a brittle smile. “I don’t think you want to know.”

* * *

Dewey trudged back to the manor with a sigh. He didn’t know why, but ever since Louie was taken he’d been in a constant state of tiredness. It wasn’t obvious, but his energy levels wasn’t as high as usual, and that was annoying.

The clang of the manor gate being opened brought him back to the present, and Dewey looked up, just in time to see Uncle Scrooge held his cane up to keep Magica back.

“You’re not to enter my house,” he said.

“You asked me to help and you’re not even letting me rest somewhere proper,” Magica huffed.

“Last time you entered my house you trapped me inside my dime, took over my bin, and stole an entire city’s worth of citizens’ shadows,” Uncle Scrooge pointed out.

“It’s okay, Uncle Scrooge, we’ll keep an eye on her,” Webby said. “She doesn’t have her magic anymore anyway. I mean, there’s a reason she keeps hounding Lena to return to being her shadow so she can get her magic back.” She shot Magica a nasty look.

“I’m only doing so because she keeps using my magic for herself,” Magica protested. “She siphons away mine from _my_ resources, and I channel my magic through my amulet. Which she takes with her. And I need both the amulet and my shadow back.”

Uncle Donald stopped in his tracks and squinted at her. “What do you mean, Lena uses your magic?”

Magica paused, processing, and snorted. “What, you mean you haven’t felt her using _my magic_ every time she performs a spell?”

“I don’t have magic other than shadow magic, what else do you expect?” Lena grumbled.

Uncle Donald stared at her strangely. “But you do?”

“Do what?”

“Have magic. Something of your own. It’s not shadow magic.”

“But… I don’t have magic of my own,” Lena said again, but her tone wavered in uncertainty. “I mean… I was Magica’s shadow. I can’t have magic on my own.”

“You’re not sewn to Magica’s feet anymore,” Uncle Donald pointed out, gesturing at the shadow beneath Magica. “You’re your own person and you have magic. I’m just surprised you haven’t discovered it considering how freely you use magic.”

“And that’s why you can give me back the amulet,” Magica said. She shuffled forward and held her hand out, palm up. “It won’t be as powerful as when I had you in my shadow because you still took away some of my magical ability, but there should be a way to get me to my full power and keep you intact if you work with me.”

Lena shifted back and clutched the amulet protectively. Mom grabbed her and pushed her gently behind her. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said, “you don’t have to give it away. In fact, the longer you keep it out of her reach the better.”

“I agree. I do not think the city is ready for another shadow war,” Violet said coolly.

“Our agreement was to find a way for me to get my magic back,” Magica growled.

“Not now,” Xandra said. “Can’t you feel her core being tied to the amulet? You take the amulet now and her whole being will come undone. Best find a way to untie them first.”

Webby gasped and glared. Magica clicked her tongue and let her hand drop.

“Anyway, she’s basically magicless for now, so it’s probably safe,” Xandra said again, turning to Uncle Scrooge. “A toddler can throw a spoon at her and she’ll fall over.”

Magica gasped in disbelief. “How dare you – “

“Relax, Scroogie, your kids will keep an eye on her,” Goldie cut in and pushed the gate open. “We should get in and discuss more! We _do_ need to prepare for a trip to get that seed.”

Uncle Scrooge shook his head. “I can’t relax around you. I take my eyes off for a second and you’ll rob me blind.”

“Me? Steal from you? Scroogie, I would _never_.”

“Har, har. I’m watching you.”

Huey scooted over to Dewey side and whispered, “Are they flirting or threatening each other?”

Dewey squinted his eyes and tilted his head. “You know, I really can’t tell.”

The preparation Goldie mentioned didn’t take long. They all always had a backpack filled with adventuring essentials – including but not limited to some pairs of underwear Uncle Donald insisted they always have, spare clothes, and safety jackets – and all they really needed to do was grab one they had in their room and dash back to meet the others.

When they reached the hall, the adults were already there, talking to themselves and pointing at a map a disgruntled Magica held up. When they walked closer, Uncle Donald straightened.

“Sorry, kids,” he said, and Dewey could tell he was trying to use his stern voice. “You’re not joining us on this one.”

“Wait, what do you mean we’re not joining you?” Huey shot back instantly.

“I mean that I want you kids to stay here and stay safe,” Uncle Donald said. “I don’t want you anywhere near Felldrake.”

“You’re not about to see Felldrake now, though, are you?” Huey chased. “Didn’t you say you want to take the money seed? Isn’t this trip just to take the seed and then get back?”

“How is a quick trip to get the seed dangerous? The security system is all frozen,” Dewey added.

“We had a change of plans,” Uncle Donald answered. He sighed and knelt to meet their eyes easier, and Dewey looked away in an attempt to pettily rebel. Huey stared right ahead, fire in his eyes and in his magic, which Dewey could feel begin to crackle under his skin. The static was so strong Dewey had to remind himself that it was magical and not physical.

“Look,” Uncle Donald began, “I love you, okay? And I want you to be safe. But we all know how dangerous Felldrake is. I saw Louie taken twice, and I’m not letting that happen to you too.”

“So your solution is to lock us inside the house,” Dewey said darkly, still pointedly not looking at Uncle Donald.

“Hey, I’m not locking you in. Besides, Mrs. Beakley and Launchpad both are still here.”

Part of Dewey wanted to argue more, but he kept his beak closed with great effort. “Fine,” he grit out instead, and Huey tensed in alarm, but didn’t say anything.

Uncle Donald reached out and took their hands. “I’m sorry, kids. It’s for your own good.”

It took a while more to convince Webby to stay put, with Violet and Lena reining her in. They saw the adults off, with Della piloting to Sunchaser – or Cloudslayer, as she kept insisting. The moment they were out of sight, Huey turned to Dewey.

“Why did you just let Uncle Donald bench us?” he demanded. “We could have helped!”

“I remembered what Gyro said, about us being the only ones who can defeat Felldrake if it comes down to it,” Dewey admitted. He clenched his hands. “And I didn’t just let him bench us.”

“Okay, what even are you talking about?” Lena asked.

“Uncle Donald’s super stubborn. He won’t let us do anything even if we’re with them, and I’m sick of not doing anything,” Dewey spat. His magic rose with his anger, crackling and buzzing and making his feathers stand on end. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly and let the magic simmer down gradually. He turned to Webby. “Webs? Which way to Uncle Scrooge’s other bin?”

Webby stared at him suspiciously. “…why do you want to know? There are tons of dangerous things there, and most of those things are unstable.”

“Because I’m sick of doing nothing, and I think some of those can help. If we can take something, we can go after Uncle Donald and Mom and the others and help them without getting into their way.”

“Sorry, but can we think this through for a moment?” Violet cut in. “First of all, I would like to know what this other bin is. Secondly, are you sure you want to do this?”

“The other bin is… basically where Uncle Scrooge puts all the dangerous and unpredictable things he gets from adventures. Things that he thinks are better if they don’t see the light of day, I guess,” Webby answered carefully.

Violet lifted a brow. “I mean you no offense, but didn’t you say he has a gong that summons a dragon and a gauntlet that turns people to stone lying about in the garage?”

“Oh, these ones are worse than that,” Lena vouched. “Super bad. Like, potentially emotionally-scarring-you-for-life bad.”

Huey looked like he was chewing on his own tongue. “Dewey, I don’t know if this is the thing we should be doing. We’ll be stealing Uncle Scrooge’s things.”

“We’re not stealing, we’re borrowing,” Dewey insisted. “We’ll return it soon. And he’s the one just leaving them around collecting dust.”

“That’s because the things in the other bin are a lot more unstable and dangerous!” Webby protested. “I’m all for helping, but is this really the thing we should be doing?”

“If you don’t want to help then fine, don’t,” Dewey growled. “I’m not stopping you from walking away. I can find the other bin myself if I want to. I can do it alone if none of you want to help.”

“Well they can decide not to join, I’m all for theft,” Lena chimed in all too gleefully.

“I’m _borrowing_ , I’ll return them later!”

“To-mah-to, to-may-to. Either way, I’m in.”

Huey mulled it over for a moment. “Me too,” he said at length. “I’m sick of doing nothing, too.” He met Dewey’s eyes, and his gaze was hard. “But we stay as safe as we can while helping, okay? As far as we can, too, and if it’s possible, out of Mom, Uncle Donald, and Uncle Scrooge’s sights. There’s no sense in distracting them by letting them know we’re there.”

“Deal,” Dewey agreed without thinking.

Webby took a look at them and took a deep breath, straightening up. “Then I guess it’s time we raid the bin.”

* * *

One hand scratched at the collar around his neck. He knew he’d gained scratch marks underneath his feathers, and he’d known they bled by now – he could feel the dampness seeping into the feathers – but somehow it was still better than the collar sitting heavily there despite not being heavy at all. Anything he could do to make the collar go away, anything he could do to make himself _forget_ the collar was there, he would do.

When the pain became unbearable, his twitchy hands found way to the cuff around his ankle, and he tugged, tugged, tugged, numbly listening to the clinking chains and ignoring the dull pain every time the metal dug into his skin and the sharp flare at his wrist. At least the wrist wasn’t swollen anymore.

“Stop that,” Felldrake snapped irritably. Louie yanked the chains as loudly as he could petulantly, but settled down. He resolved to poking his wrist instead, frowning. It was still in the sloppy bandages he’d wrapped it in, and he had no doubt that it had helped a little, but he knew he needed help to make sure the wrist would heal properly. He was sure it was just sprained, though. Mostly.

“Look, if you want to do something with me just do it already,” he said. “The boredom’s killing me.” He clenched his fingers so Felldrake couldn’t see them tremble. His heartbeat was loud in his ears and drowned his own words.

But he wanted to know what Felldrake wanted to do with him. He needed to know, or else he wouldn’t be able to formulate a plan to counter it somehow. Never mind the fact that his only concrete plan right now was, if he could get free of the cuff, he’d bite Felldrake’s arm as hard as he could and make a run for it.

He knew his chances were slim at best.

“Not now,” Felldrake grumbled from his tome. “It’s not time for the full moon and the morning star to shine together. It would be a waste to use you now.”

“Your frame of reference sucks, I have no idea what you mean with full moon and the star.”

Felldrake glared and elected to ignore him. Louie huffed and rubbed his hands together, then started pulling on the feathers on his palm, missing the way his khopesh feel in his hands. He thought of his appearance and knew instinctively that his feathers looked terrible. He needed to preen, and soon.

His mind drifted again to his family. He knew Uncle Donald was trying to get him back, but he wasn’t sure he could depend on that. To begin with, he likely didn’t even know where Louie was, and even if Louie still had the GPS bracelet Fenton and Gyro had given him he wasn’t sure how far the signal would reach. If they knew where he was, they’d have stormed the place already.

A part of Louie longed for his brothers to be with him. He squashed that part away in anger and shame. How could he wish the same thing to happen to his brothers? He needed to stop being so selfish. He grabbed a fistful of feathers from his palm and pulled.

They came off, and he stared at the stray feathers and the reddish patch of skin on his hand. He numbly let go and balled his fists and felt the tips of his fingers digging into the flesh, trying to stop from hurting himself further than this.

Felldrake broke the silence with a contemplative hum that set Louie’s alarms off. He tried to relax his tense shoulders without breaking his gaze off Felldrake, keeping his face as blank as he could. Felldrake never said anything, or showed any sign of him enjoying Louie’s discomfort, but he got the feeling that the sorcerer was, all the same.

“It’s still too early, but perhaps I _should_ prepare you for the journey ahead after all,” Felldrake said. “That way, if you failed, you can be… _returned_ , and I won’t have to cart you along. The Well isn’t the only way to regain my glory.”

Louie refused to comprehend what _failed_ and _returned_ would mean for him. Instead, he tentatively asked, “What do you plan to do if your plan now fails?”

Felldrake’s beak quirked into a smirk. “That’s for me to worry about.”

Okay, so Louie couldn’t ask about that one. “Then… what do you plan to do with me now?”

Felldrake was silent for a moment. Then, he snapped the tome he had on his hands closed with a loud thump, and Louie jumped in surprise. Felldrake ignored him and took the Mirror of Breaking and a vial filled with brilliant white liquid that seemed to sparkle gold. He tapped the vial with his fingertip, and it let out a ringing _ting_ that stabbed Louie’s ear mercilessly, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Which was odd, to say the least, since the sound was in a way melodious.

When he blinked and uncurled himself from his reflexive flinch, he found Felldrake staring at him with a glint of interest in his eyes. “Interesting,” he said. “The others did not give such reactions before.”

Louie blinked as Felldrake walked closer. He scooted back slowly until he couldn’t anymore, not comfortable with the idea of Felldrake being so close to his person.

Felldrake crouched in front of him and flicked the vial. The resulting _ting_ had Louie wincing, and Felldrake smiled. “Do you know what this is, golden duckling?”

Louie didn’t respond at first. When he realized Felldrake was waiting, and that his fingers hovered dangerously by the vial as if ready to flick again, he shook his head reluctantly.

“This, golden duckling, is the Essence of Midas,” Felldrake said. “One might think it will grant one the Midas’ touch, where you turn everything you touch into gold, but it doesn’t.”

“Does it turn the person who drink or touch it into gold?” Louie asked with false bravado.

“Interesting theory, but no. It has nothing to do with gold itself.” Felldrake drew the vial closer to Louie’s eyes, and he stared at the sparkling liquid. He blinked the light out of his eyes. He felt like the golden sparkles had started to invade his vision and blurred everything else.

“The Essence of Midas can amplify a certain kind of magic to the point where the user is one with the element,” Felldrake said. “It allows them to be as strong as they can in their magic to the point of being able to produce said element out of thin air, but if they are incompatible with the Essence, they will… ah, _expire_.”

A chill ran down Louie’s back. He ran his seemingly desert-dry tongue on his teeth and hedged, “Then why risk using the Essence at all? I have a feeling more people are incompatible than not.”

“Ah, that’s the beauty of the Essence of Midas,” Felldrake said with another flick to the vial. Louie didn’t bother hiding his wince this time. “If you try to use the Essence and fail, you simply… take the blood of a gold-touched person and mix it with what little Essence you have left. Once it has passed seven full moons and seven new moons, the Essence would remake itself from the remnants of the gold-touched person’s blood, pure as ever.”

Louie took a shuddering breath. “So it amplifies… gold magic,” he concluded.

“Smart little golden duckling! You finally figured it out.” Felldrake ruffled Louie’s hair with a grin, and it took all of Louie’s self control not to flinch at the touch. He knew he was uncomfortable already. He didn’t want him to know how much his touch disturbed him.

“And you want to use it on me,” Louie said again instead. “And if… it fails… you’ll take my blood to make into some more Essence.”

“Don’t be too worried. I have hope you will survive the amplification,” Felldrake said flippantly. He popped the cork off the vial. “You, a gold-touched child who came from a family of elemental mages with comparable degree of power, nephew to a Caballero, not being able to withstand the Essence of Midas? The sun will rise from the west.”

Louie pressed his back to the wall. “That’s not exactly comforting, coming from you.”

“Trust me, golden duckling, it’s not meant to be.” With a hungry grin, Felldrake poured the Essence over Louie’s head.

Louie gasped when cold overtook him immediately. His vision goldened out as his limbs grew numb. His senses screamed the location of every bit of gold in his immediate vicinity like a murder of crows screaming in dissonant harmony. He could taste metal on his tongue, and what little consciousness was left within him wondered if he could spit liquid gold.

Instincts took over as he dove inside himself and reached out to his brothers, desperate to feel campfire warmth and jumping sparks. He missed their presence by a hair’s breadth, and it felt like something within him was pulled taut and snapped, and he couldn’t feel Huey and Dewey anymore. Instead of their comforting hold, something cold and hard and so unmistakably metal was placed in his hands. With a start, Louie realized Felldrake had put the Mirror of Breaking in his hold.

The golden in his vision brightened until everything was brilliant white that consumed everything Louie could see, and the boy whose heart pumped gold knew no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *glares at class assignments* online classes is a _scam_
> 
> anyways, sorry it took a bit longer with this one. aside from hitting a minor writer's block, i was also busy ignoring my class assignments and falling down the rabbit hole of kingdom hearts. i don't have any console to play the games with but i've been watching letsplays and cutscene compilations. tell me again what the lore of it is?? and also i have so much beef with kairi's characterisation and sora's mark of mastery stuff, ugh. not enough to write a fic about it, though. probably.
> 
> anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. shit's going to go down soon.  
> (sorry, louie.)


	10. The Lead

_Pieces reach to one another_.

* * *

Something _snapped_ and _disappeared_.

Huey dropped wordlessly to the floor, feeling strangely like a ship unmoored. Next to him, Dewey stumbled and caught himself at the wall, took a few quick, shallow breaths, and let out a sound that might have been a scream if it didn’t end up as a whimpered squeak.

“Louie,” they both spoke at the same time.

“What of him?” Violet asked. Her eyes searched theirs.

“We… can’t feel him anymore,” Huey said. His voice sounded like it had come from some faraway place, and his ears felt stuffed with cotton. “It’s like… like us being able to reach him before was us following a thread, and now the thread is snapped and gone.”

Dewey steadied himself and stood more firmly, but Huey could feel rather than see his knees quiver all the same. “Then we have to be faster. Come on.”

Huey took a deep breath. The cotton stuffing his ears dissipated, and he stood up. He still felt wobbly, but he was standing, and that was something. “What are we taking?”

“I’m… not sure yet,” Dewey admitted. “Something that protects, definitely.”

Webby frowned. “I’m not sure there’s one like that, in here. The Other Bin usually has things that are more… volatile.”

Dewey scowled. “Then something that can wreck Felldrake.”

Webby thought it over. “I don’t know if there’s anything like that, either, but Uncle Scrooge keeps quiet about the things he keeps here. We can maybe look around, but…”

“We might accidentally trigger something,” Lena finished. “And it won’t be pretty.”

“You’re the person who knows all about Scrooge’s adventures,” Violet said, looking at Webby. “Any ideas at all? It doesn’t have to be anything particularly shielding, just anything that could possibly be useful at all.”

Webby mulled it over, but Huey was the one who spoke. “The ring,” he said, voice soft enough that he was surprised the others even heard it at all.

Dewey blinked at him. “The Void Ring?” he asked. Huey nodded in clarification.

“Isn’t it the ring that made Uncle Donald and Aunt Della’s magic all… _dirty_?” Webby asked.

“Yes.”

“Isn’t it kinda scary to grab?” Dewey asked nervously. For a guy who was all for raiding his uncle’s dangerous treasures he sure looked uncomfortable with the prospect of taking one of the more disturbing things in the bin.

“ _Good_. Maybe it’ll poison Felldrake’s magic,” Huey said with a huff.

Lena let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think you have it in you, Red.”

“We might need something to heal with but Uncle Scrooge always has the Orb of Remedies with him,” Dewey mused. “We’ll probably be okay. We’re pretty quick.”

“And if we keep our distance we can avoid getting hurt,” Huey reminded pointedly.

“Sure, sure.” Dewey walked off, leading them deeper into the bin, and Huey sighed.

They eventually found the ring, and Violet took and put it into a leather pouch Webby had prepared to make sure it wouldn’t harm anyone in its vicinity. Lena looked relieved that the trip was pretty much uneventful for once and admitted she and Webby had, once, sneaked into the bin before.

“I’ve seen some stuff,” Lena said with a shrug.

“Like what?” Dewey asked in curiosity.

“Like a vision of Webby being turned into a doll which then got shredded,” Lena answered, completely deadpan. She shrugged again. “It’s okay, that’s not real. It’s from a dreamcatcher that apparently shows you your worst nightmare.”

“I can’t decide if the fact that your worst nightmare if Webby being horrifically maimed is heartwarming or horrifying,” Violet said with a frown, obviously disturbed.

“Let’s go with heartwarming, because I don’t want to think of the implication that me being maimed is even an option to be someone’s worst nightmare at all,” Webby blurted. “We’ve got the ring, let’s get out now.”

“Wait,” Dewey said. He headed off another way. “We got that around the same time as the pin. Maybe…”

Huey blinked. “Dewey… you’re taking the Three Feathers Pin? But it made our magic go wild,” he protested.

“I mean, if the worst thing happens and we have to do something, making our magic go wild and hope Felldrake gets hit by it seems like a good enough plan,” Dewey said.

“It’s really not.”

“What other choice do we have? We’re not strong enough to go against Felldrake.”

Huey closed his eyes and took a deep breath. At length, he finally relented, “…okay. Okay.” He opened his eyes and looked at Dewey. “But we’re still not engaging.”

Dewey balled his fists in apparent anger. “But if – “

“I know you meant that as, like, a last resort sort of stuff, but we’re not engaging, okay? Not if we can help it,” Huey hissed. “I know Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge are getting Louie back, but if – if – “ his words hitched in his throat and he swallowed. “I don’t want to take any risk, okay? I don’t want to lose you. _Any_ of you,” he added, throwing a glance at the girls.

Silence hung, thick like honey, and Huey felt warmth beneath his feathers at the words he had let slip. He didn’t regret speaking them, however. Every word was sincere and true, and they all deserved to know how he felt.

It was broken by Lena, who was arguably the one most unused to open expressions of care and love. Her voice was layered with a wavering front of sarcasm that was as transparent as the wet sheen in her eyes. “Aw, aren’t’cha sweet, Huey? I _would_ sell you for a corn chip, though.”

Huey snorted. “You’re as bad as Louie.”

“Did we figure you the person-to-corn chip conversion? I don’t think you’re worth just one corn chip. You’re worth three just for that confession alone,” Dewey pointed out.

Violet took out a calculator, seemingly out of nowhere. “Well, we can probably figure it out by weight. A corn chip is light, so let’s say it’s about two grams per chip. How much does the average adult weight?”

“Okay, stop, we’re not here to figure out person-to-corn chip conversion! And you’re worth a million corn chips for that confession, okay?” Webby broke in.

“Hey, we don’t know if that’s the correct weight.”

“No offense, Vi, but I don’t really care because it’s not body weight that matters but how precious you are, and you’re all precious to me. Come on, we gotta move.”

“What is this, National Heartfelt Confession Day?” Lena muttered under her breath. The group complied with Webby’s request all the same. They grabbed the pin on their way, having Violet handle it too, and Dewey insisted on making another round to see if there was anything else they could grab. In the end, though, they came out not taking anything else. What they suggested to each other ended up being vetoed on ground of the artefact being too dangerous with a side of downright useless against Felldrake.

When they emerged from the bin, there was a beat when they simply stood silently. “Now what?” Lena voiced their shared thoughts.

Huey turned to Dewey. “Yeah. Now what? It’s your idea; you should know what we’re gonna do next. Right?” He squinted at Dewey.

Dewey put his fingertips at his temples. “Okay, gimme a sec, I’m thinking.”

Huey sighed in exasperation. “ _Dewey_.”

“Give me a break! I didn’t think I’d get this far!” Dewey flailed his arms, settled, and took a deep breath. “Okay! Okay. We can’t try to track the well on our own, none of us have the correct magic. So… so what about we tail Uncle Donald instead?”

Violet tilted her head. “And how do we do that?”

Dewey fell silent, but then there was a gleam in his eyes that Huey didn’t entirely like. He rubbed his hands. “We can do that,” he said, “by blackmailing Launchpad.”

* * *

When they crashed into Launchpad’s garage, he had Fenton over, along with another duck Huey didn’t recognize. Dewey did, however, and he pointed at the man.

“Hey, aren’t you Drake Mallard? The dude who was to be the actor for the cancelled Darkwing Duck movie?” Dewey asked, still pointing. Huey slapped his hand down because _really?_ Dewey should know by now that pointing was rude.

“Um, yes. That’s me.” The man blinked at them, then he turned to Launchpad. “LP, I know you said you were told to babysit some children and we might end up having to help, but I didn’t know you meant _five_ of them.”

“Uh, normally there would be six of them actually – “

“ _Six_?! LP how are you still alive?!”

Fenton broke through the chatter with a quick look at their group and straightening up when he saw Lena and Violet. “Oh, hello! We met before, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but we didn’t introduce ourselves because you were busy with the magic-proof tech,” Violet said. She stepped forward and offered a hand. “My name is Violet. This is Lena.”

“Hi,” Lena said, waving.

“Hi Violet, hi Lena!” Fenton said cheerily, shaking Violet’s hand. “What brings you guys here today? Do you normally just barge into LP’s garage unannounced like this?”

“Um, no,” Huey said, feeling offended at the conclusion Fenton drew.

“Launchpad we need you to help us tail Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge,” Dewey demanded without preamble.

Launchpad, who was drinking, spat out his drink back into the red plastic cup he was holding. “Sorry, what?”

“We want to tail Aunt Della, Uncle Donald, and Uncle Scrooge,” Webby elaborated. “We want to make sure they’re fine, and get Louie, and in case things get bad we can be prepared.”

Launchpad, for all he acted like a birdbrain at times, looked positively horrified at the prospect. “Kids,” he began slowly, “they’ll kill me.”

“It’s okay, we’ll make sure we stay out of sight,” Violet assured.

“It’s not only them, Mrs. B will kill me too and she’s so much better at spotting things when things get weird,” Launchpad said. “I can’t help you with this. They meant it when they said it’s too dangerous.”

“Well, Darkwing Duck always says to get dangerous!” Dewey protested.

“That’s not – “ Launchpad rubbed his face with both hands. “Oh my god, was I wrong to bring them to marathon Darkwing Duck with me…?”

“Hey now, it’s never wrong to bring kids to watch Darkwing Duck. It’s the best show in the world,” Drake protested.

“Okay, let’s not get hasty here,” Fenton, ever the peacemaker, waved his hands in a placating manner. “Why do you want to tail your – um, the adults to begin with? I’m sure they have their things handled.”

“Because the bad guy they face is bad news and he’s gotten Louie and Uncle Donald has failed in getting Louie back,” Dewey said.

“We don’t blame him,” Huey added. “But it’s clear Felldrake’s stronger, and we don’t know if Uncle Donald and José and Panchito can deal with him on their own. And… Gyro said something to us, before.”

Fenton blinked. “He did?”

Huey nodded. “He said… he said that he thought maybe Mom and the uncles won’t like how he said things either, but if the worst case scenario happens, and they… _fail_ … then Dewey and I, and probably Louie too, we’re the only people with magic we know of who even stand any chance to go against Felldrake.”

Fenton blinked again, then something dawned in his eyes. He closed them with a furrow of his brows and he let out a sigh. “Ugh, _Gyro_ … if he’s not my boss I definitely would have whacked him…” he whispered, almost too soft for Huey to hear.

“Don’t blame him. He’s not wrong,” Dewey said glumly. “We don’t know who else have magic, after all.”

Drake tilted his head. “Magic isn’t real,” he said carefully, sounding more like he was asking than stating. In response, Dewey glowed blue-white and let a crackle of electricity dance on his feathers, while Huey lit himself aflame. Drake jolted in surprise in response, and Huey hid his smile by biting the inside of his cheek to keep it from getting wider. Dewey didn’t bother, openly smirking at the reaction.

Drake turned back to Launchpad. “LP, _how are you still alive_?” he asked again, with more feeling this time.

“Luck,” Launchpad answered glumly. “Kids, I really don’t think it’s my place to do this. It’s really not safe for you.”

“Launchpad, you really should at least consider helping us,” Lena said. “Look at them. Do you think they’ll stop pestering you?”

“I know they won’t, but I can’t just go ahead and help you guys tail your mom and uncles. And Mr. McD is my boss! I can’t just tail him! And they want you to not go with them for a reason!”

Dewey shook his head. “Launchpad, for real. We’re asking you so it’s just a little bit safer. And this way, you can still keep an eye on us.” He glanced at Huey, and Huey understood what he meant instantly.

He sighed and played along. “You can’t stop us. We’re only asking you out of courtesy.”

Fenton let out an uncertain _uhhh_ while Drake stared at them skeptically. Launchpad, who was the only one even remotely familiar of the shenanigans they’d gotten into, immediately stared at them with trepidation. “What do you mean, courtesy?” he asked.

“Well, if you know and you go with us you can still make sure we’ll be okay, right? There’s no one to do that if we go on our own,” Huey said. “I mean, we could have just run off on our own but we didn’t.”

“Whuh – Mr. McD is, like, out of country right now,” Launchpad said. “There’s no way you can tail him on your own.”

“We jumpstarted Uncle Donald’s boat once. We can do it again if it comes down to it,” Dewey said with a shrug. “I can do it again right now, if I want to. It’s not that hard.”

“You did what to your uncle’s boat?” Drake asked, eyes wide.

Huey shrugged at him with more nonchalance than he thought was possible. “We wanted to go to Cape Suzette.”

“You never told me about this,” Lena said. She looked giddy with the prospect of her friends having done something like jumpstarting a boat. “Red, I thought you’d be the type to stop your brothers!”

“I mean, I tried, but there’s no stopping Dewey and Louie was all for it too,” Huey answered easily. “And when you can’t beat them, join them.”

“And there’s nothing stopping us for doing the same thing now,” Dewey added, pointedly looking at Launchpad, who looked like he wanted to cry. It made Huey feel guilty, and it probably made Dewey feel guilty too, but this was something they both wanted to do. Huey inwardly noted to apologize to Launchpad when this was all over.

“But, wait,” Fenton said, hands flailing. “I know you want to have Launchpad with you, but what will you tail your family with? There’s no plane to go after them. And what’s stopping the tech to short circuit? You all know tech and magic don’t mesh.”

Launchpad brightened and shot Fenton an immensely grateful look. “Yeah! That’s a good point!”

“I mean, if we want to tail them safely then we probably would stay far enough away that we won’t show up in their radar,” Webby pointed out.

“And Fenton’s here,” Violet added. “I’m sure you can build us a better radar to track them with. And what’s stopping you from magic proofing our vehicle?”

Fenton opened and closed his mouth wordlessly for a moment. “Wait – wait a second here, don’t rope me into this.”

“You’re the one who helped Launchpad with telling us the shortcomings of our plan. Are you planning to abandon Launchpad now that you’re in this too?” Lena challenged.

“Um,” Fenton squeaked.

Drake tilted his head. “You kids really won’t back down, huh?”

“No way,” Dewey said forcefully.

Drake stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He rubbed his neck. “You know, I… I know someone. Friend of a friend of a friend, sort of. He… has access to a plane.”

Huey straightened at once. “You can help us?”

“DW!” Launchpad whined.

“I mean, you kids are pretty much set on going,” Drake pointed out. “And I was a stubborn kid, too, so I know you guys are serious about going on your own. Plus I also have experience dealing with… super stubborn kids, and just straight out telling you no isn’t the route I can take if I want you kids to stay put – and you guys _don’t_ want to stay put, so that point is moot anyway. If you really have jumpstarted a ship before, there’s no telling if you won’t do it again, and as impressive as that feat is you’re still all kids. It’s really better if someone goes with you so you won’t get hurt or anything.” He glanced at Launchpad. “And really, I think it’s better to go with them than let them go on their own now. If you go with them, you can at least tell your boss you can’t stop them so you decided to keep an eye on them. If you don’t, there’s no damage control. Best care scenario, you get fired.”

Fenton shuddered. “I don’t know if I want to know what the worst case scenario would be,” he said. “And if Launchpad is involved and I know and don’t help, I’ll face the consequences too.”

“I’m glad I’m not working for Scrooge McDuck,” Drake sighed.

“Oh no, there’s no stopping Uncle Donald and Mom from hunting you,” Huey said as casually as he could.

“See? Now I’m roped in, too.” Drake shook his head. “I’ll… contact the guy. But I don’t know if it can withstand magic, or if the radar is good enough.”

Fenton let out a longsuffering sigh. “I can make some modifications.”

Launchpad looked at his two friends and let his face drop to his hands, groaning loudly. “…I’ll pilot the plane,” he said at last.

Something like hope settled in Huey’s chest. Things were finally starting to look up.

* * *

The flight to take the money seed was a lot longer than any of them was comfortable with, no matter how far Della had stretched her skills both as a pilot and as someone proficient with magic. She was at the ends of her limit by the time they landed.

Donald could tell from the feel of her magic.

He wasn’t the only one who did. Uncle Scrooge noticed, too, and he laid his hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay, lass?”

Della jumped – a clear indicator that she wasn’t, but the smile she threw on was decidedly deceptive. “Yeah, never better! I can do this all day.”

Donald frowned. Uncle Scrooge did the same and gave her a stern look. “ _Della_.”

“What? I mean that, I’m fine!” She stood and wobbled back into the seat instantly. “Okay, not as fine as I’d like. But mostly fine.”

“You kept using magic the whole way,” Uncle Scrooge pointed out. “Rest up when you can. We’ll be back quickly.”

“But – “

Donald scowled at her. “Don’t make me tie you into your chair, Dell.” His magic brushed hers to drive home the seriousness of his threat, and she stilled. The brief jolt of surprise, disbelief, and longing clued Donald in to how much she’d missed him, and he wondered how long it had been since he’d let their magic mix and mingle together.

Far too long, it seemed. But his magic was different, changed when he took on the amulet again. He had noticed how the difference in his magic made Della hesitate when she first realized his magic had changed, and he thought it had been kindness to keep his magic out of her reach.

He shelved that for later. He had other things to worry about, right now.

Panchito groaned. “Donald, you’re using my lines to her!”

Donald rolled his eyes. “Hey, if it fits.”

“That can’t do, Donal’. You have to be _creative_ with your threats,” José said.

Donald threw them a withering look. He opened his mouth to retort, but Magica cut him off with a scoff, “Are we going to dawdle here all day or are we going in to take the seed?”

Goldie let out a noncommittal sound. “I mean, I’m content to sit back and watch the drama unfold.”

“We’re facing a time limit,” Magica reminded.

“Which is why we need to get the seed! Let’s go!” Della stood from her seat, only to fall back into it when Uncle Scrooge pushed her down with his cane.

“After what you did last time with Dewey, I’m not ready to let you near the seed yet,” he said. “And you need rest.” He glanced at Goldie and Magica. “Can I trust you two to babysit her?”

“ _Babysit?!_ ”

Goldie lifted a brow. “You just don’t trust us to go inside, do you?”

“Well, that, too. But I also need someone to keep an eye on this rascal.” Uncle Scrooge poked Della with his cane, prompting an indignant _hey_ from her.

Goldie smiled. “Fair enough. Shame, I was hoping I could have spent some more time with dear José on the way, but I suppose that can wait until later.” At the curious hum José let out, she shrugged. “Our magic _does_ have some similarities.”

José’s eyes lit up. Panchito and Donald shared a look, decided then and there that Goldie and José teaming up would be a bad thing for absolutely everyone else, with Goldie being able to charm absolutely everyone into trusting her and José being able to coax absolutely everyone into doing what he wanted, and dragged him out of the plane, into the cold. Xandra followed them silently – she had been silent for a while, eyes scanning the horizon with an alertness that Donald hadn’t seen in a while – and nudged them to walk faster.

Uncle Scrooge led them, and in the end the walk to take the money seed was as uneventful as uneventful could be. They were back to the plane soon, and while Della was all reared up to fly again, Uncle Scrooge managed to coax her into resting some more.

“What now, though? We can’t just sit still and do nothing here,” Della protested.

“We’re not sitting still and doing nothing,” Xandra said, speaking up for the first time. “We’re giving Donald a chance to figure out how to track the well and the logistics of dealing with the magic.”

Donald blinked at her. “Will it be draining?”

“Very,” Xandra said. She bit her lip in thought for a moment. “Try drawing out power from the amulet, and maybe extra energy from José and Panchito.” She glanced at the two inquiringly.

Panchito nodded readily. “Of course! Take as much as you need.”

“Anything to minimize the risk,” José added.

Donald took a deep breath and stared at the three golden seeds in his palm. He didn’t really want to draw power from José and Panchito, didn’t want to treat them as magical batteries, but if it came down to it he’d probably do it unconsciously. The amulets were connected to one another, and it was ridiculously easy to follow that connection to the person wearing them.

“Okay,” he breathed. He looked up at Xandra. “How do I do this?”

Xandra sat cross-legged in front of him and prompted him to do the same. Once seated, she took his hand and pushed his fingers to grip the seeds in his hold. He let her.

“Close your eyes,” she said, “and breathe deeply.”

Donald complied.

“The magic in the seeds is faint, but I know you can sense it,” Xandra guided. “Can you feel it?” At Donald’s nod, she squeezed his hand. “Okay, now dive into it. Let its magic mix with yours. It will be counterintuitive because it’s not water magic, but it’s possible to do.”

Donald took a deep breath. He could feel the seeds’ magic, just as Xandra had pointed out. Something about it reminded him of Louie; of something glimmering and precious, but it was different. Louie’s magic was a quiet thing that breathed, but the seeds’ lay dormant, and Donald wasn’t sure if it could grow stronger if stroked awake. He tried anyway, nudging and poking it with his own magic, and it was like trying to mix water with oil. Until, slowly, the seeds’ magic began responding to his better and agreed to mix and be molded.

Immediately, he could feel himself being drained. He frowned, grunting, almost instinctually reaching deep into himself and grasping at the tethers of José and Panchito’s bonds and drawing from them.

Something shifted and pushed at him, wriggling in his head and making way to put itself in. It slotted into place, something screamed to be found, and Donald opened his eyes with a gasp.

* * *

Della didn’t like how Donald looked right now.

She knew he was trying to get Louie back. Her baby. His, too, probably even more so than hers. But it didn’t change the fact that Donald looked different, felt different, and she _didn’t like that_.

The moment Donald wore his amulet, his magic had changed. It felt like the sea, but it was also more; it was also rain and rivers and lakes, but it was still also the sea, it was still Donald. The moment he reached into the seeds’ magic, the body of water that was Donald’s magic changed its face yet again and Della couldn’t recognize it.

And the change of magic was accompanied by a physical one, and something in her squirmed until she tasted bile in her throat. His magic, normally enveloping him in wave-like deep sea blue light speckled with white seafoam, had adopted a pale aquamarine with glittery golden sheen that shone through him and spread gold all over the interior of the plane. By him, José and Panchito exuded a similar golden sheen; dimmer but there all the same, most likely a byproduct of the way their magic were intertwined with one another’s through their amulet.

The initial change of his magic and the way he kept his distance after had been alienating enough. The fact that Della was watching it change once again into something she could barely recognize made a part of her want to weep.

Donald gasped and opened his eyes. His dark eyes had changed light, the lightest aquamarine, a glittery gold sheen covering the irises and spreading to the sclera until the white was nearly covered with all-encompassing gold. His magic, now barely even feeling like water anymore, pulsed. “The well,” he breathed softly.

Xandra leaned forward, hands hovering uncertainly around Donald. “Do you know where it is?”

Donald blinked. His gaze was almost blank, and his voice was lilting and untethered. When he spoke, his answer was almost as chilling as the nearly unrecognizable, eerily clear voice he used.

“Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry launchpad but the kids are an unstoppable force and there's no immovable object to slow them down
> 
> honestly though, i did plan to have the kids managing to get launchpad to help them, but i didn't plan to have them basically bully him into it. i didn't plan to have drake and fenton involved either, but it seems appropriate. as much as a himbo launchpad's canon characterisation makes him to be, i think he's wholly aware how dangerous what the kids are asking him and his brain basically short circuited. i imagine his thought process was "this is dangerous" --> "i have to keep them safe" --> "if i say yes i'm putting them in danger" --> "donald, della, and scrooge will kill me if i put them in danger" and the last one was what ended up being said.


	11. The Pull

_A cutlass, a broadsword, and a spear united._

* * *

“Home.”

Della tilted her head at Donald’s answer, but it was Uncle Scrooge who voiced their thoughts. “What do you mean, home?”

Donald turned to them, eerily slow. For some reason, Panchito and José both mirrored the motion in the exact same time, exact same speed, exact same direction, and Della was suddenly regretful of the times she and Donald decided to pull the creepy twins prank on anyone they deemed funny enough to pull that one on. It was fun when she was doing it; it really wasn’t fun to see it happen before her eyes. The golden glow really didn’t help matters, either.

“It’s home,” Donald said, voice almost toneless. It was still eerily clear instead of the scratchy voice he normally spoke in. “It’s in Duckburg.”

Uncle Scrooge rolled his eyes. “Of course it is,” he grumbled. “We’re getting back, then.”

“Where exactly is the Well, though?” Della asked. “Do you have a more specific location?”

Donald’s eyelids fluttered. “The sea,” he said after a beat. “By the Money Bin.”

“Okay, great, thanks, can you drop the seeds and drop the whole gold glitter thing now?” Della asked again.

Donald tilted his head the other way; José and Panchito both mirrored the motion. They _had_ to be doing that on purpose.

Xandra was the one who answered. “I don’t think he can drop it.”

Della blinked at her. “Wait, what? Why? He just needs to drop the seeds.”

“It’s not that simple,” Xandra said. “If he drops it, the connection breaks. And we don’t know if the Well is the type of location that changes every time it wants to move or not.”

Magica hummed with interest. “Is that not the sort of magic that is less draining if you just leave them be? Leaving him be for now might be better for him in the long run than cutting it off prematurely.”

“Yeah,” Xandra confirmed reluctantly. “I don’t like it either, but… I guess if we can let them rest while Donald is still doing this and maybe have them use the Orb of Remedies at the same time, it will lessen the load.”

“Is there really nothing else we can do?” Della asked just as Uncle Scrooge began rummaging for the orb.

“Not really, no,” Xandra said, shaking her head. “You can probably connect to his magic to help feed the need for the connection to keep going, but it’ll drain you and you need to pilot the plane. Also it’s _really_ draining, I don’t recommend it for you.” She glanced at the three Caballeros. “I guess… I can supply them with my magic, too, but I don’t think mortals can survive a deity’s pure magic.”

“Put that as a last resort, then,” Uncle Scrooge said, placing the orb in Donald’s hand. His fingers curled around the orb, but it was almost an instinctive reaction. He didn’t seem all that present, still. Uncle Scrooge sighed and fixed Donald’s hat and turned to Della. “Let’s go back to Duckburg, then. Land by the Money Bin. We’ll set up camp there unless the location changes.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “But we’ll rest here for now if you’re not up to it, lass.”

“No, I’m fine,” Della said. She wasn’t at her best, but she could still fly back home okay. “I’ll rest more once we’re landed.”

Uncle Scrooge hummed, but kept his eyes on her. She ignored the doubtful stare, plopping down on the pilot’s seat and glancing at how Goldie helped Xandra coax Donald to sit down and wear his seatbelt correctly. Once she made sure everyone was safely strapped in (and double and triple checked, just to be sure), she had the plane soaring in no time and made a beeline to the Money Bin.

Once she landed, he helped Uncle Scrooge wrangle Donald out of the plane while Xandra herded Panchito and José to follow. Their connection with Donald had started to tire them out, with their magic being siphoned away. A part of Della was jealous of them, missing the way Donald’s ocean wrapped around her when they let their magic connect and communicate with each other. As she let Donald plop down on a chair, she let her magic snake in and wrap around Donald’s, feeling the transformed magic that no longer felt like the sea sluggishly flow beneath her sky.

And then the current snapped hungrily and latched onto Della’s magic, leeching off of her and drinking greedily, like a man trapped in the desert desperately clawing for water. Della let out a muffled gasp of surprise, and Donald’s head snapped up, a sudden, sharp awareness in his eyes. He pushed Della away and barricaded his magic, cutting off the connection between them. Della swayed back, blinking away the dark dots in her eyes.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Donald snarled, voice scratchy. The gold glitters seemed to dissipate for a split second before they were back, and Donald closed his eyes and breathed, slumping into his seat.

A pair of strong hands caught and steadied her. She looked up to meet Xandra’s eyes.

“I told you it’ll drain you,” Xandra said, frowning in displeasure.

“You didn’t say how much,” Della rasped.

“I also said I don’t recommend it for you,” Xandra pointed out. “Donald, Panchito, and José would be fine; the amulet boost their magic like crazy. You don’t have that boost.”

“Will she be okay?” Uncle Scrooge asked. His voice sounded far and muffled. Oh boy, was this magic exhaustion? Was that a thing?

“Probably, if she rests,” Xandra answered, and oh, her voice sounded even more muffled.

“I’m good, I’m good, I’m gonna rest, it’s okay,” Della half-mumbled, half-slurred as she pulled herself free from Xandra’s hold. She slumped into a seat a few chairs away from Donald’s, feeling creeped out by the way the wild magic still felt like it was hammering away at the dam Donald built to reach hers. She scrunched her eyes shut and sighed, internally cursing the building pain in her head. Magic migraine. _Fun_.

She closed her eyes, determined to ride away the pain until she felt okay, and when she opened her eyes again she realized she had fallen asleep at some point, and she had felt loads better. She kneaded at the crick in her neck as she looked around, finding Uncle Scrooge arguing with Magica, voice low, with Goldie looking away with an unreadable expression in her eyes. Something about wishes. Xandra stood over José, Panchito, and Donald, who gathered together at one corner, all three still glowing softly gold.

Della blinked when she realized that the three had donned armors; a gold-and-blue one for Donald, a broze-and-red one for Panchito, and silver-and-green for José, though the colors were slightly covered by the glittery gold they still held. It had dimmed somewhat, but it was still shining brightly, covering Donald, José, and Panchito in identical aquamarine-and-gold that reflected off every surface.

José seemed to realize she was staring, and he offered a small smile. “Final battle, my friend,” he said. “Time to get serious.”

“Your _get serious_ is to get sets of armor?” Della blurted.

“And weapons,” Panchito confirmed. His voice was much more subdued than usual, but he still held up his spear in gusto. José held out his own weapon, a one sided sword with a slight curve that Della had no idea what the name was, and behind them, Donald caught her gaze and showed her his own straight sword.

“Sweet, do I get any?” Della asked again.

“Sorry, buddy, but those are Caballero exclusives,” Xandra said with a grimace.

Della blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Well that’s disappointing.”

“You can fly, you’ll be fine,” Panchito said.

“Ehhh, it’s still not as cool as toting about weapons in shining armors like you guys.”

The gold that glittered about Donald’s person pulsed. He turned to the sea, staring into the depths. “The Well’s calling,” he murmured.

“It’s starting to appear, then,” Xandra concluded. She glanced to the clear sky, looking at the hanging full moon and the brightly shining Venus.

“Well, then,” Godie said, drawing attention to her, “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

“You’re not joining us?” Della asked.

“Oh, I know when to pick my battles,” Goldie said with a shrug. “I can’t fight with magic. Getting my wish is tempting, sure, but I think Scroogie here would rather wish for his family’s safety. Can’t really argue with that, with how much trouble you get into.” She looked away and added under her breath, “And getting skewered with magic isn’t my favorite pastime.”

“You’re not just saying you’re backing off because you want to raid my bin, are you?” Uncle Scrooge asked with narrowed eyes.

“For once, no! I’m as surprised as you are!”

Donald ignored the banter and walked closer to the water. Della followed his gaze and saw the beginnings of a whirlpool materializing in the water, and it slowly grew bigger.

Donald’s golden shine grew stronger, as did the gold that enveloped both José and Panchito. The other two Caballero joined Donald by his sides, bluish gold pulsing. With each pulse, the glow grew stronger until the three were a beacon in the night, nearly overtaking the generous light of the moon. Their magic soared and screamed in scattered, staccato flares, Donald’s coursing water swooshing underneath and José’s sunset and cocktails warming Della’s throat and Panchito’s rowdy music tapping against any available surface. Their magic ran amok and hooked themselves to any other magic nearby, not greedily sucking like Donald’s was earlier but simply trying to rouse them up. Soon, Della could feel elongating shadows and creeping dusk that was Magica began flicking about, her natural magic peeking through even without the amulet to channel or direct it. Goldie’s followed, curtains and masks and warm smiles with a thousand meanings peeking through fabric. To Della’s surprise, something flicked and flared in Uncle Scrooge, and the ring of gold coins hitting one another jingled in her ears. Soon, Xandra, too, shone gold, and the feeling of whizzing arrows wrapped around Della’s torso and triggered her own magic.

White plumes bloomed around her as wind picked up, blowing her hair up and lifting her feet off the ground. She breathed as the sunny summer sun seemed to warm her face.

Distracted by the rising of their magic, they didn’t pay attention to the whirlpool.

The next thing Della was aware of was the sensation of being slapped in the face with pure darkness that rolled her over like the ocean waves, and Della gasped, trying to pull air into her lungs and found herself unable to. Panic hit her full force.

She screamed.

* * *

In the end, they didn’t really need to tail anyone, not really.

When Drake got the plane to park by Launchpad’s garage, it was clear that it wouldn’t fit all of them. Somehow, he managed to calm the ensuing protests with a simple, “Look, I know, but this is what we have and planes don’t grow on trees.”

Dewey wanted so very badly to point out that the plane he brought looked suspiciously familiar to the one used by the other vigilante running about Duckburg, Darkwing Duck, but he, Huey, and the girls agreed not to say anything for now. There would be time to interrogate him later.

Well, Dewey knew. But it wasn’t like it was his secret to tell, and he knew when to shut up when he _really_ had to, so.

Fenton took his sweet time equipping the plane with stronger radar capable of withstanding and detecting magic. Dewey suspected he was stalling to keep them in the manor for as long as possible, but Fenton assured them he was working as fast as he could. Dewey doubted Fenton could lie, so he decided to trust him. Apparently, upgrading the radar took Fenton almost a day on its own due to the complexity of how magic was scienced enough to be measured and detected.

It was the next day, the daybefore what Dewey had come to dub as the _moon and star day_ , when Fenton finally sprung out of the plane, exhausted and sweaty and greasy, with a chipper but tired “Done!”

“You could’ve been faster if you let me help,” Drake said, half grumbling.

“Nope! I told you already, magic radar and GPS is tricky. It’s prone to exploding in your face, and the only reason this one didn’t is because I’ve exploded enough to know how to avoid that.” Fenton jumped out of the plane and grabbed a bottle of energy drink and downed it in one go, ignoring the judging look Webby and Violet shot him. He put the bottle down and clapped. “Now then! Let’s see if this works.”

“Uh-uh, no, no, no. Back off, _I’m_ operating the plane,” Drake said sternly. “You’ve messed around with my plane enough.” Behind him, Huey added another note to his _evidence that Drake Mallard is Darkwing Duck_ list, which had been growing steadily longer the more time they spent with Drake.

“Um, I’m the pilot here,” Launchpad said.

“It’s still my plane,” Drake grumbled. Huey underlined the note he just scribbled three times.

Drake started the plane with an ease of having done it many, many times, and activated the radar. It beeped loudly, and Dewey scrambled up to see the map. “So? Does it work?” he demanded.

“Seems so,” Drake said.

“I also upgraded it a bit, so it should be able to reach more distance now,” Fenton chirped. “It should be able to detect active magic. I don’t know how to track dormant magic yet.”

“Cool, now let’s – “ Drake paused. “That’s weird. There’s a close one there. I think that’s… Scrooge McDuck’s Money Bin?”

“Then that must be Uncle Scrooge and the others,” Huey concluded. “No one else in town has magic other than us.”

Dewey turned slowly to Fenton. “Heyyy, Fenton… you’re good with tech, right?”

“Um.” Fenton shifted to create a distance to Dewey. “Why do you ask?”

“I was wondering if you can hack into the security cameras so we can see what’s happening inside.”

Fenton’s mouth dropped open and he worked his jaw silently for a moment. “ _No_ ,” he said at last. “I’m – no. Not doing that.”

“But that always happens in the movies!”

“Dewey, I get what you mean and I understand why you’re asking me,” Fenton began, “but I will be breaking so many laws if I do that and I will lose my job and I _will_ end up in jail, and that will break my M’ma’s heart, and I will not break M’ma’s heart because I will not survive that.”

“Aw,” Dewey pouted, but he decided to back down. It wasn’t like he could do it himself.

“Isn’t it weird, though, that they’re back in town?” Webby pointed out. “I thought they were going to go around looking for the Well.”

“Maybe the Well is there,” Violet said.

Lena stared at her. “Maybe the Well is there,” she echoed. “Do we – how do we make sure of this? Can we just go there?”

“I don’t see why not,” Webby said with a shrug. “I mean, I’ll want to stop by my room first so I can grab some stuff. We’ll probably need a first aid kit, for starters. Do you think my grappling hook will help? Should I just go for my crossbow?”

Drake tugged at Launchpad. “Did she just say crossbow?” he hissed into Launchpad’s ear, though still loud enough for Dewey to hear.

“Yeah? She has regular bow and arrows too,” Launchpad said, and Drake looked like he was about to faint just from that.

Huey, though, glanced at the clock and shook his head. “No. Not now, anyway.”

Dewey turned to him in betrayal. “Why not?”

“I checked the astronomical calendar, Venus is going to appear at around 3.30 in the morning,” Huey said. “It’s almost sundown. I think we should just take a nap for a while and go to the bridge to the bin at, I don’t know. Two?”

“Oh,” Dewey said, blinking. “That makes a lot more sense than just barging in now, I guess.”

Huey huffed. “Of course it does. There’s a reason why I make plans.”

Webby turned and purposefully stared at Launchpad. “So, can you take us there later, Launchpad? Please?”

“Uhh, I guess if that’s the only way I can keep my word to Mr. McD about keeping you safe,” Launchpad muttered.

“You shouldn’t use the plane, though,” Drake said. “It’ll be so obvious. They’ll know you guys are there before you even land.”

“Wait, have I been upgrading your plane for nothing?!” Fenton blurted, and Drake laughed. Launchpad sighed while the two men bickered and ushered Dewey, Huey, Webby, Lena, and Violet back to the manor. Dewey complied, mostly because he’d given Launchpad enough stress lines in one day and was about to give him more later on.

They camped out in the boys’ room, with Huey and Violet both setting up _way_ more alarm clocks than strictly necessary, but when Dewey complained about it Huey just gave him a flat, unimpressed look that he had seemed to perfect in over the years he was brothers with both Dewey and Louie. “We all know you sleep through your alarms a lot, Dewey, I’m not taking chances,” he’d said, and Huey had to be grateful Dewey loved him because how dare he.

It took a while to fall asleep, with them being as wired as they were, but Dewey was stubborn and he _would_ take a nap and fall asleep out of sheer fricking will if he had to, and eventually sleep claimed him at last. He felt ridiculously offended when the alarm clocks brought him back to the waking world, but he pushed it aside in favor of hounding Launchpad to get them closer to the bin.

Just before they left the room, Huey paused and rummaged through Louie’s stuff.

“Hue?” Dewey called.

“Just a sec – there we go,” Huey breathed, pulling out Louie’s golden khopesh. He strapped it to his back and looked at Dewey solemnly. “Just in case.”

Dewey exhaled. “Yeah, okay.”

They made their way to Launchpad’s garage and found him asleep, with Drake atop of him and Fenton nodding off while slumping against the two’s sides. Violet approached them and shook them awake.

“It’s time,” she said, cool and matter-of-fact like usual.

Launchpad groaned and turned over. “Five more minutes, Mom,” he slurred, unaware that him turning over had Drake falling off and waking grumpily while Fenton blinked blearily at them both.

Violet, for her part, was staring at the three in incredulous surprise. She turned to Webby. “Do… do I sound like a mother?” she asked.

“No,” Webby said, at the same time as Lena chiming a “Yes”. They looked at each other and shrugged, opting instead to pull the three adults up.

“Okay, okay, I’m up,” Drake grumbled, rubbing his eyes. Launchpad finally rose from his slumber at his side, while Fenton was already reaching for more energy drink.

Despite the rough awakening, the drive to the bridge was surprisingly smooth. To Dewey’s absolute bewilderment, Launchpad was a much better driver when sleepy.

“Wait, wait, stop, stop, stop,” Huey urged suddenly as they neared the bridge. “If we get closer they might realize we’re here. We need to keep our distance.”

Lena stared at the stretch of ocean between them and the bin. “We’re still miles away from them.”

“That’s the idea,” Huey said. He took out a pair of binoculars and tossed Dewey another pair. “Come on, let’s check this out.” He ran to the edge of the road, practically leaning to the rusty railing. Drake, who followed him out, pulled him back.

He frowned when Huey shot him a glare. “What? I’m not risking you falling off,” he said.

Dewey ignored them, choosing to use the binoculars to survey the Money Bin. There would be time to tease Huey about Dewey being the reckless brother later.

The sea was calm, though for some reason Dewey felt like there was a note of agitation in it. Having lived by the sea practically his whole life, he’d learned to read the ocean until he could recite every wave and every current like the back of his hand. Huey and Louie both could do the same, though they were nowhere near Uncle Donald’s level, who always seemed to be able to tell the ocean’s mood with just a glance. Now that he knew it was partly because of his magic, Dewey kind of wanted to tell Uncle Donald that he had been cheating the whole time.

A spark of something gold caught his eyes, and he zeroed in on it. “Hey, what’s that?” he exclaimed, mostly to draw the others’ attention.

Huey scanned with the binoculars again. “It looks like some… sparkles? Gold?”

“Is it Louie?” Webby asked.

“No, I don’t think that’s Louie,” Huey said with a frown, still looking. His magic buzzed for a moment, straining. “Doesn’t feel like Louie. And the color is wrong.”

Dewey checked again. “Yeah… it’s different. Louie’s is kinda green. Like that gemstone. This one is more… blue?”

Huey turned to look at him. “Do you think that’s Uncle Donald?”

“Does it feel like him?” Dewey shot back.

Huey frowned. “No, but I don’t know. Sometimes magical artefacts make your magic feel different, right?”

Dewey muttered a soft _yeah_ and turned back to look at the glittering dot of gold in the distance. It pulsed.

Huey lowered his binoculars. “Something’s wrong.”

Dewey felt it just after Huey closed his beak. It rippled through the water as the gold pulsed again. Almost without meaning to, Dewey took a step back.

Something flew overhead, wingbeats loud in the silence of the night as the sea itself seemed to still. Webby broke the silence with a gasp and a whisper. “Felldrake,” she said.

Dewey looked up and for the first time since his connection with Louie was gone he could feel his magic sparking unbidden. Leopold was flying too fast for him to follow, but he could see Felldrake’s form on his back, holding a smaller figure who gleamed gold-and-emerald in his hands. Louie pointed at somewhere at the sea, near the Money Bin, and Felldrake directed Leopold to it.

He kept his eyes on the flying figures and ran to the bridge. He couldn’t even make three steps before Huey grabbed him by his wrist, yanking back.

“Let’s go!” Dewey urged.

“You said we wouldn’t engage!” Huey hissed. “We’re not getting close.”

“Why would we even bother coming here then?!”

“To observe! To make sure things are okay!” Huey snapped. “To step in, later, if we have to! I’m not going to let us just run ahead and get in the thick of things and then get Mom and Uncle Donald hurt because they got surprised we just popped up!”

“But that’s – “ Dewey bit his tongue and looked away. He _did_ promise Huey to stay back. “Okay, but give me a leeway. If there’s a chance to grab Louie when Mom and Uncle Donald and Uncle Scrooge are busy, we’re doing it.”

“Only if we’re sure no one’s getting hurt,” Huey relented after a moment. Dewey could take that.

“Guys,” Lena interrupted, voice faint. “Guys, look.”

Turning to the direction Lena pointed, Dewey couldn’t help the sharp gasp he took. The sea had formed a whirlpool, from which a deep darkness swelled into a bubble, a tiny dot of light inside it. The gold that was Louie pulsed along with the dot, as did the bluish-gold in the Bin.

“Is that… the well?” Webby asked, squinting at the whirlpool.

“That can’t be, that looks nothing like a well,” Huey protested.

“Oh, I don’t know, Huey,” Launchpad said nervously. “Looks can be deceiving.”

“What’s it _doing_?” Fenton asked softly, but the disturbed tone caught their attention. They stared at the bubble of darkness, and Dewey felt leaden trepidation weighing down his chest when the bubble seemed to breathe and grow bigger with each passing second.

Lena held her hand out. Her amulet glowed softly. She frowned, likely trying to sense what was happening, then her eyes grew wide as she scrambled to retreat. “Get back!” she yelled. “The whirlpool’s – !”

The warning came too late – or maybe it didn’t matter at all. The darkness swelled and exploded out, crashing and sweeping them into a wave. Dewey closed his eyes and tried to grip the railing, but the darkness swallowed him whole and he was left with a sensation of drowning in open air.

The rush dissipated. Dewey opened his eyes to survey his surroundings.

He was no longer in Duckburg.

* * *

The ground was hard and rough. Stones, instead of earth.

That was the first thing Donald realized when he came to. Rough cobblestones against his cheek, grating his beak, gravity pressing him down against the stones and making him sore.

The next thing he realized was that he was no longer glowing with glitter-gold that overtook his person, and that his head feel clear again. Mixing his magic with the seed’s had made him feel like he was wading through mud, like his thoughts were slowed while all his attention was taken by the Well’s call and nothing else could stick.

Oh, shoot, where were the seeds? They weren’t in his hand anymore.

He groaned and pushed himself up, and there were a dissonant chorus of groans all around him. Looking around, he realized that José and Panchito were with him, decked in armor and holding their weapons, and he belatedly realized he wore his own armor and held his sword in his hand. With them, Xandra sat up with a grunt, shaking her long hair and fluffing it up as a result. There were more groaning, and Donald realized Della, Uncle Scrooge, Goldie, and Magica all woke by him.

So the whole gang was here.

Della rubbed her neck and looked around, locked gazes with him, and perked up. “Don! You’re not glowing anymore!”

Donald blinked. “Um, yeah?”

“Do you feel okay?”

He blinked again and stared at his hands. “I surprisingly do? This is weird. I thought I was going to pass out or something.”

“Normally you would. You probably don’t feel that way because we’re not in Duckburg anymore,” Xandra piped up. She pursed her lips. “It’s probably going to be hell once you got back, though.”

“Eh, I’ll deal with it then,” Donald replied flippantly. “Does anyone know where the seeds are? I don’t have it anymore.”

Uncle Scrooge looked around and plucked something from the ground. “I got them. They fell here.”

Donald nodded and heaved a sigh of relief. He really didn’t want to lose the seeds. He stood and felt his grip on the sword, correcting it when he realized he was holding it wrong. It had been a while and he never really had any formal training on how to use the sword (barring the little time he spent at King Arthur’s kingdom, but he wasn’t sure that really counted), but it was always instinctual, how he knew he had things right or wrong the moment his hands closed on the sword and his body was covered in the Caballero armor. He wondered how much of it was him and how much was magic.

There was a scuffling sound, and Donald turned to check. To his surprise, he saw Huey, Dewey, and Lena, staring at them like deer in headlights.

“Okay, why are you kids here?” Della asked, sighing.

“Um,” Huey said.

“It was Dewey’s idea!” Lena blurted.

“Hey! Huey agreed! You _all_ agreed!”

Donald pressed a palm to his forehead and tried to muffle a groan, feeling the start of a migraine building in. Thankfully, Della could handle the kids, and she had started to calm them down and managed to coax them to tell why they were there at all. Then came tumbles of words over why they were there, and Donald clenched his fists.

“But why are they here but not the rest?” Uncle Scrooge wondered. “It doesn’t make sense – oh. It’s magic, isn’t it.”

Xandra hummed in agreement. “Seems like that. Proximity is a factor too, I think, but everyone here has at least a little bit of magic.”

“Okay, but where is _here_ exactly?” Goldie cut in. “Is this some sort of a separate dimension?”

“Sort of, yeah,” Xandra said. “I guess the Well of Wishes is the type of place that likes to hide in a pocket dimension.”

“So how do we get out?” Della asked.

Magica scoffed. “The only way you get out of any labyrinth. You look for the exit. I’ll bet my amulet you have to get to the physical well to get to the exit.”

Donald glanced at José and Panchito. They both shrugged, and José exclaimed, “I suppose that’s as good a plan as any. There’s only one road and I’m not fond of traveling that way.” He gestured to behind Donald, and Donald turned to check, and he had to agree with José.

They were standing in the middle of a cobblestone road, and the corner from which the kids appeared had somehow disappeared. Around them was a great expanse of grey-white fog, and the road behind them was completely obscured from view, and so dark it was almost black. In contrast, the road ahead of them was brighter, with the fog seemingly less thick. Donald wasn’t keen on exploring the dark road, either.

“Only one way to go, then?” Goldie asked with a bitter smile.

Donald stared at the brighter road and let out a breath. “Only one way to go,” he agreed.

* * *

When Webby blinked the darkness out of her eyes, things were silent.

When she looked around, she realized Huey, Dewey, and Lena were gone.

Her breath hitched in her throat. “Huey? Dewey! Lena!” she called, to no avail. They were nowhere she could see, and her voice could only carry so far.

“Webby,” Violet called, and Webby whispped her head to her so fast a sharp pain stabbed her in the neck. She hissed in pain but otherwise ignored it, rushing to Violet’s side. She was standing by the railing, staring at the sea. Webby followed her gaze and let out a gasp.

The whirlpool had disappeared, but the bubble of darkness was still there. Except it wasn’t a bubble of darkness with a tiny speck of light inside anymore; it was a big bubble with things in it, like a giant snow globe. The colors looked muted and greyish, but Webby could see things moving in it. She grabbed a binocular that either Huey or Dewey had dropped and used it to survey the bubble and bit back another gasp when she realized her friends were there along with the adults.

Louie, Felldrake, and Leopold were nowhere to be seen, inside or out of the bubble.

“They’re – they’re inside,” Webby stammered. “Why are they inside? Are they trapped?”

“Oh no! We have to bring them back!” Launchpad yelled, already climbing over the railing.

Drake pulled him back. “Okay, no, stop. I know we say _let’s get dangerous_ all the time but I don’t think I can pull you out if you drown because you’re _big_ , and that snow globe thing is far from the shore.”

“And I don’t think we can do anything about it, anyway,” Fenton added, using the remaining binocular to look into the bubble. “We don’t have magic. If my experiments trying to measure magic with Huey, Dewey, and Louie were anything to go by, we won’t be able to pop that bubble with any nonmagic means.”

“Then… we’re just stuck here, doing nothing,” Violet concluded. Her brows creased unhappily.

“The least we can do is monitor it,” Fenton said. His tone mirrored Violet’s frustrated one.

“What if we get closer?” Launchpad piped up. “We can at least see if they’re okay inside!”

“I told you already that I can’t bring you up if you drown, LP,” Drake said dryly.

“No, with a boat!” Launchpad said. “We can go to the harbor and borrow a boat!”

“Doesn’t Uncle Scrooge have a trawler?” Webby asked, remembering the trawler they had used when they retrieved the Three Feathers Pin in _Lady Gullianne_. “If we can get to Uncle Scrooge’s garage and get it out to the sea soon – “

“Is it the same as Donald’s boat? Because that one looks like it’s seen better days,” Fenton said doubtfully.

“No, it’s a different boat,” Webby assured. “Uncle Donald’s boat is fine, it’s seaworthy, but it’s not as fast as the trawler.”

Launchpad’s gaze hardened. “Okay, I’m getting the trawler!” he said. “Webby, Violet, you two stay here and see if anything happens, okay? Fenton, look after them.” He turned to Drake. “Come on, DW, help me get the trawler out. We’re getting dangerous.”

Drake nodded readily and followed Launchpad to the car. It soon zipped out through the Duckburg streets like lightning, and Webby prayed that they would get to the manor and get back to them safely.

She turned back to the bubble and took a deep breath. Surely they would be okay. Her family was ridiculously smart and capable and strong. Surely that was enough to keep them safe.

The bubble didn’t offer reassurance. Webby’s fingers ghosted over her bracelet and she stared silently at the bubble, watching the shine of the full moon wash over it, and wished with everything she had that everyone would come back safe and sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know, this fic is getting a bit longer than i expected. i mean, i know i'd reach 50k, but i didn't think this chapter in particular would get this long. i kind of feel like i'm pulling this like a taffy so it gets longer but at the same time nothing really feels like... filler? like i still feel like all that i wrote into this is necessary for the story to progress. i dunno. tell me if anything feels stretched out and unnatural.
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoyed this one. i'm planning for them to finally get to the well in the next chapter. i'm thinking it'll be mayyybe 2 or 3 more chapters and the fic will be done? i'm never good at predicting how many chapters it will be to finish a fic though, so we'll see as we go.


	12. The Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is barely edited so apologies in advance if you catch some typo.

_Wind and water swirling into a hurricane._

* * *

She wasn’t sure how long they’d spent walking on the road. With everything looking exactly the same, unchanging and stagnant, it was hard to tell.

But there was movement, at least, and little by little the fog lifted. The drab cobblestone road didn’t change much, but she could see… something in the distance. After more walking, the fog cleared enough for her to see, and she squinted her eyes.

“Is that a… gate?” she asked.

“And overly ornate fence,” Uncle Scrooge agreed. “This is shaping up to be a _pain_.”

“It’s really not that bad, it’s just a gate and a fence,” Xandra said. They got to the gate, and she stared at what was beyond it. “Okay, those plants look about dead, but that’s not a guarantee this will be that bad.”

“You’re not helping our case,” Donald said with a sigh. He went to the gate and reached out to open it. The moment his fingers brushed against the metal, it swung open with a loud creak, and lurched.

Della stepped forward to him, but José and Panchito both caught him before he fell. He looked at them and blinked a few times. “I – I don’t know why that happened.”

The sound of something shaking drew their attention, and they looked into the gate. The seemingly dead plants were gone, replaced by lush, lively foliage. The whole place looked like a well-tended garden, richly green and drunk with flowers and leaves. Della frowned and stepped forward, tentatively entering the garden and letting her fingers brush against a bush. It felt real enough.

The rest of the group followed. Donald trailed at the back, and when he stepped inside, the gate swung shut with a loud, final slam. They stared at it as Donald rattled the gate, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Only one way to go,” Goldie said.

“And not a long way to go,” Magica said. “That’s a well if I’ve ever seen one.”

Della turned to look at what Magica pointed at and was hard-pressed to agree. The wall that made the well was large and circular, thick, made from old stones that had long since overgrown with moss. The roof over it was conical, made from slabs of mossy wood, the pulley system was rusty, and the rope looked so worn that Della was sure that if she touched it, the rope would crumble to dust.

Dewey inched forward, clearly curious, but Donald pulled him back. For once, Della agreed; the garden and the well had made her feel nervous, with how closely linked it seemed to Donald and his moves.

Magica had no such qualms. She strode with an easy confidence and peered down into the well, and then tensed.

“What?” Uncle Scrooge demanded.

Magica straightened and stepped back from the well. “Nothing. I was surprised; the water is golden.” She scooted back from it. “Now the issue is what to wish for and how to wish it. Wishing wells require a price.”

“Do we have to wish for something before we leave?” José asked, looking around uncomfortably.

“Well, how else do we leave?” Magica challenged.

“I suppose we can make a wish,” Goldie mused, “but then it comes to the question of the price – “

She heard it before it came. It sounded like a whoosh, of something cutting through the air, and then a sickly purple whip came and looped around their waists and pulled them back.

They were thrown back without care. Della managed to find her footing and landed on her feet instead of her face, as did Uncle Scrooge, Goldie, and Xandra, but Magica fell flat out on her butt, while Donald, José, and Panchito fell awkwardly trying to catch Lena, Huey, and Dewey.

The beat of wings and the feeling of being swallowed by poisoned nebula clued Della in on who had attacked them. She looked up, and sure enough, Felldrake was there atop Leopold’s back. Della felt herself stiffen when she saw her missing son, his hoodie looking worn, his whole body shimmering softly golden. It reminded her of the glow that surrounded Donald after he took the seeds, but it felt even more _wrong_.

“Louie!” she yelled, hoping to get some sort of reaction. Her stomach lurched when she realized he wasn’t reacting at all.

“Give him back!” Huey screamed, bordering on a snarl.

Felldrake didn’t even bother responding. He peered at the roof of the well, and he glowed faintly purple, the toxic galaxy spreading around him. The liquid in the well responded, glowing golden.

Magica’s eyes widened and she turned to Lena. “Lena! Lend me the amulet!”

Lena’s eyes widened. “No!”

“I’m not going to do anything dangerous to you, but I know how to use the well and I need magic to do it,” Magica said, almost pleading. “Neither of us want Felldrake to get his original body back.”

Lena stared at her for a moment, stricken, and made her decision in the split second that followed. She ripped the amulet out of her neck and tossed it to Magica, who caught it with a look of surprise in her eyes. “Don’t make me regret it,” Lena said, but it sounded more like a plea than a threat.

Magica nodded and ran to the well. Della gritted her teeth, decided to trust her, and turned her attention to Felldrake and Louie. She called the winds to her aid and let it surround her until her hair whipped about as she floated, briefly surprised that it was so easy to gather her magic to support her, and she knew that it would take barely any effort at all to summon a tornado if she chose to.

She was yanked back, and the pull would have sent her crashing if she wasn’t caught in strong arms. She groaned and looked up, not surprised to see Xandra had pulled her back to the ground.

“Let me get up there so I can beat Felldrake up for taking my kid,” she growled.

“I can’t let you use your magic like that,” Xandra said. “Magica will be fine because she channels her magic through an amulet. The Caballeros have their own amulets to protect them. If you use that much magic here it’s going to be hell once we get out of here.”

“Then I can limit my use; simple.”

“It’s not that simple! You’ll still be drained, and that’s the best case scenario!”

“That’s a problem for future Della.” She wiggled out of Xandra’s hold and shot up to the sky before the goddess could yank her back.

She glanced down. Felldrake had released a ton of tiny straw dolls to occupy the others and keep them away from the well, and she managed to get to the air before the wave came out. Uncle Scrooge and Goldie fought back-to-back, whacking away the dolls, while Donald, José, Panchito, and Xandra formed a circle around Huey, Dewey, and Lena, while Magica had formed a magical barrier around her, shadows flitting about her.

Which left her as the only one who was available to fight Felldrake, ill-equipped as she was. She had heard Xandra and the Caballeros yammering on about being the only ones able to beat Felldrake; it was well-instilled at this point.

It didn’t matter. She would get Louie back or she would die trying.

Ignoring Xandra’s warning, she called her magic forth and flitted behind Leopold, who hadn’t noticed her closing in. Putting herself in his blind spot would help her. It helped that it was also Felldrake’s blind spot.

From her place, she could see that Felldrake was holding Louie’s hand, who was unresponsive in his place. Louie’s faint golden light was devoid of its usual emerald green glitters, and the same light shone softly in Felldrake’s eyes. He had his hand outstretched to the well, tendrils of gold and sickly purple emanating from it. She glanced down at Magica and saw that she was peering at the well, similar tendrils of dark purple emanating from her with hints of Donald’s aquamarine-gold that surrounded him just before they entered the pocket dimension.

Mind made up, she took in a deep breath, let her magic wreathe her from head to toe, and rushed forward like the sudden gust of hot wind to Felldrake. The tendrils dissipated in an instant as he threw his hand out and sent jagged crystals her way, but she maneuvered around them to avoid being hit. It was easy to let her magic run wild, so she did; she sent a gust of wind to knock Felldrake off Leopold, but he held on safely.

“Della!” she heard Donald yell, and his magic touched hers, sending alarm and concern and a general feeling of _what the actual fuck are you doing_.

She ignored it because she had to focus on avoiding another wave of jagged crystals to her. Once the onslaught was done, she sent a quick wave of shaky reassurance and refocused her attention to Felldrake. “Give me my kid back,” she demanded.

Felldrake scoffed. “He’ll find his way back once I’m done with him. Get lost.”

“And let you get what you want at his expense? Not a chance.” Della zoomed in close, let her magic dissipate from her limbs, and dropped to send a kick at Felldrake, aiming with her metal leg for an extra helping of pain.

Leopold threw a wrench in her plans, dodging and swiping at her. The blow caught her in the arm and she careened aside, catching herself midair, momentum broken. Felldrake glared at her as if daring her to disturb him again.

Who was she to deny it?

White plumes bloomed around her as she gathered as much magic as she could to her limbs and shot ahead, shooting gusts of wind to disturb Leopold’s flight and drop Felldrake to the ground. If Louie fell, she knew she was fast enough to catch him safely, especially since she could harness as much magic as she needed.

Apparently, it pissed Felldrake off enough. The dying stars burst out and formed a dome around him and his ride, and he clenched his teeth. “Stop getting in my way.””

“What about _you_ stop getting in _our_ way?” Della sniped. “How did you get here in the first place, anyway? There was only one road and we didn’t see you.”

“There’s more than one road and there’s more than one gate,” Felldrake scoffed, “since there is more than one key.” He dug his fingers into Louie’s scruff, and Della saw red. She gritted her teeth and let her magic build to call on a storm, and Felldrake lifted a hand in response, his magic gathering in his fingers, but he stopped, suddenly.

Della stopped in her tracks, too. Something was happening down below.

The water in the well bubbled, the gold liquid shining over Magica and dissipated the barrier she had made. The magic in it pulsed, once, twice, then blasted out, gold light shining brightly.

Felldrake snarled out an angry _no_. Below, Donald gasped, losing his footing and dropping like a sack of potatoes, José and Panchito scrambling to catch him only to stumble last minute. Overhead, Della gasped, feeling something in her drain as Donald’s magic touched hers in a desperate grab and _dragged_ , trying to siphon away her magic as his own was drained away faster than he could supply it. Below, Lena let out a short but sharp shriek and dropped to her knees, shining bright aqua light that disappeared as soon as it appeared.

Around Magica, amongst the spilling golden light, shadows woke and swirled. Soon, it expanded and overtook the well’s light, and swallowed them all in darkness, and for the longest second everything hung frozen, and then Della felt the sensation of something shattering around her as her magic abruptly left her and she plummeted below, staring up uncomprehendingly up at the thinning shadows and the shine of the full moon and the morning star above her. Overhead, Magica flew atop a sphere of solid shadows, her wand in her hand, green in her feathers, and the unmistakable feel of strong, pure shadow magic oozing off of her. She glanced at them for a moment, and the shadows swallowed her, and she disappeared in a wave of reawakened magic and aloof, almost indifferent, smile.

“Thank you, Donald Duck,” she said just before she blinked away in the dark.

She crashed into the sea with a big splash, somehow managing to hold her breath so she didn’t inhale a lungful of seawater. To her panic, she found herself unable to move her limbs, her magic so drained she felt a physical backlash over it. She closed her eyes and opened her beak to scream – in its place, a big bubble of precious air escaped.

Someone caught her by the armpits and brought her to the surface. She coughed and sputtered, wheezing as she tried to breathe air into her lungs. When the hacking subsided, she turned around to see who had her. She blinked. “Uncle Scrooge?”

He stared at her with grim eyes. “Let’s swim closer to the others,” he said, partly dragging her through the water. She blinked and looked around and felt something in her freeze.

José and Panchito both looked tired, but they kept themselves alert somehow, with an unresponsive Donald afloat between them. Xandra swam around them like a protective shark, looking ready to drag them out of the water as soon as she was able. To Della’s surprise, all three Caballero gripped their weapons, still, seemingly undisturbed by the difficulty that came with trying to swim with their blades. By them, Goldie kept Lena afloat as she girl stared at her hands in what looked like a mix between fear and wonder, dying sparks of white-blue light clinging to her fingers.. And then there were Huey and Dewey, looking around with a searching look in their eyes.

“Donald,” Della whispered, hurrying to him. Her limbs locked in her exhaustion and she lurched, inhaling seawater up her nose, and Uncle Scrooge had to drag her up coughing and hacking again.

The sound of a boat fast approaching took her attention, and she turned. She saw a familiar trawler coming closer, and she blinked, staring at it. Webby waved frantically at them, Violet by her side. Fenton was behind them, holding them by the waists since they looked ready to jump into the water themselves. He saw the group, said something to the girls, and ran inside, only to come out with a life preserver and ropes. He tossed it out, and Xandra caught it, immediately gathering the Caballeros into her arms and climbing up into the boat. Uncle Scrooge had Della climb up, still coughing, and then Huey and Dewey behind her, then Lena. Goldie and himself followed after.

“What happened? Where’s Magica? Where’s Louie?” Webby asked. “We saw what happened when you guys were away, there’s this weird floating orb we could look into, we saw you guys in there. Louie’s not here with you guys?”

“No,” Goldie said. She pointed up. “He’s up there.”

Della looked up, following Goldie’s finger. Sure enough Leopold was there hovering, Felldrake on his back, Louie with him.

Donald’s magic stirred. “Louie,” he croaked.

Felldrake glared at them, hateful eyes seemingly shining in the dim moonlight. He glanced at Louie disdainfully. “Useless little trash. I couldn’t even use you for the well.”

“That’s not even Louie’s fault,” Della said, incredulous. From what she gathered, she had concluded that the well had used at least a part of magic from the person who brought them into the pocket dimension for the wish – so Magica thanking Donald was probably because his magic had paid the price for hers to revive, if she had guessed correctly. Did she want Louie to experience backlash the way Donald was experiencing? Definitely not. Did she find Felldrake’s vitriol over Louie not being able to grant his wish ridiculous anyway? Absolutely; the guy lost his chance because Magica was faster in getting what she wanted, Louie had nothing to do with that.

Felldrake clearly didn’t feel the same way. With a scoff, he pushed Louie off Leopold.

Della screamed and lurched forward, but her limbs were too weak for her to move. Uncle Scrooge beat her to the punch, rushing forward and jumping to the sea, and to her surprise, Goldie followed right after.

Donald shone, sea blue and white seafoam, and the ocean jumped to intercept Louie. Instead of plunging like a rock, the sea embraced him and guided him down, letting Uncle Scrooge and Goldie both to get Louie and pull him to safety. As soon as the light dissipated, his magic depleted, he slumped back down and Della felt herself being drained even further.

“Uncle Scrooge, quick, the orb!” Huey yelled, and Uncle Scrooge paddled faster, Goldie following. They got up soon, with Fenton helping them while Launchpad and a guy Della didn’t recognize getting out to help.

As soon as Uncle Scrooge was on board, he carried Louie closer to Donald, grabbing Della’s hand on the way and dragging her along. He had them sitting together, Della hugging Louie desperately and ignoring how his faint golden glow seeped though her eyelids and how cold he felt in her arms. He was breathing, still, but he was so quiet, and Della hated it.

Uncle Scrooge pulled her hand, and Louie’s, and Donald’s, and had them hold the Orb of Remedies together. Almost immediately, her limbs relaxed, and her magic started to fill her up again. It was weak, and it came in a small trickle, but it came all the same. She let out a shuddering breath as relief came flooding in, feeling Louie grow warmer and Donald’s magic healthier, but Louie’s magic was still active and she couldn’t wake him up.

“Donald’s still unresponsive,” Xandra noted grimly. “His magic is too drained.”

“He might be better if he took from us,” José said. “But he didn’t.”

Xandra groaned. “He _knows_ he’d be drained. And we still need to fight Felldrake. What’s he doing?”

Della glanced up just as Panchito answered, “He’s just up there chattering with Leopold.” He glanced at Della. “He does that. We’ll have a minute or two before they stop.”

“We need to jumpstart Donald’s magic,” Xandra said with a hiss. “We need all three Caballeros.”

Dewey took in a sharp breath. “The pin.”

“Pin?” Uncle Scrooge repeated.

“We took the Three Feathers Pin and the Void Ring from your Other Bin,” Webby admitted. “We thought they might help.”

“We’re sorry,” Huey added.

Uncle Scrooge sighed. “Tell me next time. There are a lot of dangerous things in the Other Bin.”

“But Three Feathers Pin…” Xandra’s eyes darted around in thought. “That might work. It will be really volatile, but if we can just jumpstart Donald’s magic and let it build a little bit…”

“I have it with me,” Violet said, taking out the pouch containing the pin. She handed it to Xandra.

“Right,” Xandra said, taking out the pin. The pin did nothing to her; her magic didn’t go wild, but maybe it was different for deities than mortals. She took a deep breath, took Donald’s free hand, and placed the pin in his palm.

Donald’s back arched immediately, his beak opened in a silent scream. His magic soared, and the ocean around them exploded upwards, raining seawater as he opened his eyes; pools of the deep and seafoam as sea blue enveloped him from head to toe. His grip on the orb tightened, and there was a zing through his magic as the orb’s influence seemed to spike, and Della found herself breathing easier as Donald’s magic returned to its usual power, erratic as it was. She blinked at the same time as he did.

“That’s it.”

The feathers at the back of Della’s neck stood on end. She looked up, suddenly realizing Felldrake hadn’t spoken in a while, and saw that he was staring at them hungrily. A smile stretched in his face.

“What – “

Felldrake patted Leopold’s neck twice, and the creature nodded, then dove in to the ship. Donald sprang up, but he was too late, and Leopold knocked him over and he skidded and fell back as Felldrake landed lightly on the ship. The pin laid conveniently near to his feet, and he took it, his magic going wild immediately.

“To think you had this with you,” Felldrake said, letting out a low chuckle. “I should have robbed your mansion outright.” His eyes darted to Della, who still held the orb. “I really should have just robbed you blind.”

Della gripped the orb tighter just as both poisoned outer space and smoggy night sky bloomed around Felldrake. She scooted back, holding Louie closer to her chest and making sure he was still holding the orb together with her, while Uncle Scrooge stepped in front of her and glared at Felldrake as if daring him to come closer.

To her surprise, Donald gasped and stood, yelling, “Sheldgoose!”

Panchito patted José’s arm repeatedly, and José snapped up in surprise. He took a deep breath, and green glinted in his eyes, snaking out of his beak like vines. “ _Sheldgoose, speak to us. Surely you don’t want to stay locked inside your body like that?_ ”

Della stared at him in confusion. She turned her attention to Felldrake, who froze in his spot, the dying stars abruptly swirling back inside himself while the smoggy sky rose up, lit up in the light of eternally, listlessly awake city, the honks of cars and skidding tires and sudden brakes a phantom symphony that painted an orchestra in his magic.

Felldrake gasped, eyelids fluttering, and Della was suddenly struck with the certainty that _this was not Felldrake_.

“What do you even get from letting him take over?” Panchito added. “It’s your body. He’s just there. You can kick him out if you want to.”

Felldrake – _Sheldgoose?_ – stood his ground and let his hand curl tighter around the pin. The smoggy sky grew stormy, the poisoned fog growing thicker and thicker. “I can’t.”

“We can help you,” Donald said. “He’s not worth shielding.”

Sheldgoose let out a laugh that was equal part derision and disbelief. “You’re the ones who locked him inside me in the first place.”

“We wanted to seal him inside the staff and you know it,” Panchito said. “You’re the one who broke it.”

“And it doesn’t matter,” José said. “We can get him out. Let us help, and – “

“ _No_ ,” Sheldgoose snarled. “I will not get your _help_.” He bent into a stance, and the smoggy sky expanded then focused, condensing into tendrils with uncomfortably pointy ends. They soared forward, to Della.

On instinct, Della called to her magic and shot up to the sky, ignoring the tendrils and hugging Louie close to keep him safe, the orb safe in her hand. Below, Uncle Scrooge swung his cane and jabbed a tendril to keep it down, but the tendril easily knocked him away. Panchito let out an uncomfortably piercing whistle that made Della frown and Sheldgoose flinch, but he powered through it.

Another tendril went for her, and Della dodged. Soon, it became apparent that even with her flight magic it was hard to avoid the tendrils that kept chasing her. She could feel Donald pouring his magic into her, but eventually the tendrils caught her and slammed her back to the poop deck. She curled in pain, keening, still hugging Louie close. Smog rushed at her, almost solid in its presence. She gathered her magic frantically and tried to blow the smog away with wind but it was too strong for her to fight.

Something snatched away the orb in her hand. The storm of smog left her be, at last.

Sheldgoose gripped at the stolen artifacts, one in each hand. Leopold landed by his side, nuzzling his face and calling him _mommy_ of all things, and he scratched Leopold absently under his chin. His magic was still going haywire, but it wasn’t as bad as the triplets’ outbursts, or hers, or Donald’s. She wasn’t sure if it meant his magic was weaker than theirs or if Felldrake’s presence lent some sort of control for him.

“Why do you do this? You get nothing from this!” Donald demanded. “He’s _inside you_. He just needs to get out. What do you think he’ll do to you once he’s out? He has no use for you!”

Sheldgoose glared at him. “Lord Felldrake will not cast me aside,” he said, and he closed his eyes. The smoggy sky seemed to freeze for a moment, and then poisoned outer space bled out and burst, and when he opened his eyes again he was back at being Felldrake instead of Sheldgoose.

“Let’s see if strengthening my magic with this can let me break free,” Felldrake said, and gripped the pin closer to his chest. The toxic nebulas exploded, dying stars winking, and the full moon was swallowed in his magic. Something akin of cracks appeared in the feathers around his eyes as sickly purple bled out and tried to burst from his skin.

Donald, José, and Panchito shot forward as one, amulet shining and weapons drawn. Felldrake took one glance at them, nonchalantly flicked his wrist, and the three were flung back.

Webby took something from Violet’s sling bag – a familiar leather pouch that Della couldn’t place. She took out the content, shook with barely contained rage, and threw it to Felldrake. “Stop hurting them! I hope you get corrupted!”

Xandra stared wide-eyed. Something shot to Felldrake’s head with deadly accuracy, but Felldrake somehow managed to catch it between two hands, sandwiching it between two other stolen artifacts. He stared, then smiled entirely too gleefully. “Oh, a present,” he purred, “you really didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t tell me you have the Void Ring,” Xandra hissed to Uncle Scrooge.

“It’s dangerous! It almost killed Donald and Della,” Uncle Scrooge said, defensive.

“Okay,” Xandra took a deep breath. “Okay. Void Ring is a bit of a wildcard. Let’s just hope it will corrupt Felldrake’s magic so bad he can’t – “

The poison in Felldrake’s magic grew thicker. His magic swelled, soaring, growing, as the cracks in his skin grew wider.

“Or it will just make him stronger because his magic is already so rancid. Okay,” Xandra muttered.

Webby staggered. “Oh no,” she breathed. “Oh no, did I make it worse? I didn’t know – “

“Webby, none of us knew,” Uncle Scrooge assured. “If it wasn’t you, someone else would throw the ring. I know I would, if I knew you brought it here with you.”

“But – “

Webby didn’t get to finish her words. Sinister-looking sickly purple storm clouds gathered around Felldrake, who slowly floated up to the sky, Leopold flying about around him. The storm clouds grew in size, enveloping the sky, and soon Della couldn’t see the dying stars above anymore. Wind picked up, the sea grew rough, and fat droplets of rain began to fall. In no time at all, it all grew into a storm so bad Della could barely see her own hand in front of her.

Despite the storm, she could still hear Donald, screaming in alarm and rage and then getting to her. She jumped anyway when his hand closed around her wrist. “Felldrake is making a storm and a big whirlpool. If we don’t do anything the boat’s gonna sink!”

“What are we supposed to do? We can’t do anything about this,” Della protested.

“No, we can,” Donald said. “But I need your magic. Come on, Dell.”

Della looked down at Louie in her arms, still as unresponsive as before. Donald’s gaze fell to him, and he gulped, suddenly looking both angry and torn at the same time.

Huey and Dewey came to them, waving to catch their attention. “We’ll take care of him!” Huey assured.

“We’ll try to wake him up,” Dewey added, practically vowing then and there. She let them take Louie from her arms and stood, eyes still glued to her children.

Donald’s squeeze at her wrist called her attention back to him, and before any other word was exchanged he let his magic twine around hers. She let him rouse her battered magic with his own, just as battered one. She didn’t need to see to know white cloudlike plumes had bloomed around her and Donald was covered from head to toe by the blue of the sea. Wind rose around her and whipped her wet hair around, and she could feel the sea responding to Donald’s call. Their magic twined so deeply that it was impossible not to understand when they sent impressions to each other.

_We have to stop the storm and the whirlpool_ , Donald practically said.

_I can try taking the wind_ , Della sent back. _Might need help. It’s not just wind, it has water too._

_Together, then,_ Donald said.

She let her magic plunge into his and mix together. Through sheer force of will, they managed to coax the storm to subside into drizzles, and Donald had somehow managed to stop the whirlpool using his magic.

An unmistakable feeling of _oh no_ cut through Della’s connection, and she stared at Donald. Sure enough, he was looking at something in the sky, so Della followed his line of sight and couldn’t help but mutter the words.

Felldrake was still floating in midair with Leopold flying around him, but the flight had grown panicked and Felldrake looked… different.

At first glance, he still looked like the goose that Sheldgoose was. Della could almost ignore all the purple streaks in his feathers. But something was wrong; he looked deformed for reasons Della couldn’t fathom or point out, like something inside was trying to burst free.

Felldrake slipped on the Void Ring, and his magic flared brighter, and then Sheldgoose _broke_.

It was as if Sheldgoose was a balloon, and someone had blown air into him. The purple streaks grew bigger, cracks spreading until he was purple all over, and then he swelled, growing larger, larger, larger, as the white plumage turned into sickly purple. Horns appeared atop of his rapidly swelling head, and Della almost couldn’t see his face since the big, rotund belly obstructed her line of vision.

Felldrake let out a booming laughter and let his hand swipe down at their trawler. It landed instead on the water, just inches away from the boat’s hull, and it sent the boat flying. Instead of landing roughly on the sea like Della had expected, it floated in midair, as if gravity had forgotten to lay its claim on them.

“Oh no,” Xandra spoke, soft and faint. “The seal broke. Felldrake is back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *toots horn* felldrake's back. yay.
> 
> in case it's not clear in the story, felldrake is using the void ring and three feathers pin in conjunction to each other to make his magic stronger and break down sheldgoose's body, then use the orb of remedies to heal any damage to himself. he doesn't seem like the type who would care about others, he wouldn't really care that sheldgoose has been a host for him all this time basically. the pin, ring, and orb have all been featured in other stories in the series, but it's okay to skip them if you don't want to read them.  
> (also yeah sheldgoose is hella ded)
> 
> also, by my estimation it should take at max 3 more chapters for this story to be done. the end is nigh. shit will go down.


	13. The Battle

_Feather one reunited._

* * *

He gripped the hilt of his sword until it dug into his palm, painfully so. The spread of the toxic outer space was painfully familiar, but there was no floating bits of rocks and stones and earth to jump off of. This would be harder than the last time.

Not to mention…

Panchito slammed into him, gripping him by the shoulders. “Donald, we need you to get us to Felldrake,” he said. “He’s still not in full power; we can stop him early.”

Donald gulped. “But Sheldgoose – “

“Donal’, look at him,” José said, pointing up to Felldrake. “Do you really think we can separate Felldrake and Sheldgoose now, even if he wants our help?”

Donald’s grip on his sword tightened. “No,” he admitted. He took a deep breath. “What do you need me to do?”

Panchito peered down, where the sea was still spread around them. “Can you bring up the sea so we can move using the water?”

Donald stared at him. “…like by swimming? I’m the only decent swimmer here.”

“Not by swimming, you poop. You can control water.”

It clicked, at last, and Donald nodded. He took a deep breath and called to his still raw magic, letting it bubble to the surface and suppressing a wince when it rubbed at him like sandpaper against chafed skin. He ignored the sensation and focused his attention to the sea, feeling it respond to his call, eager to help. With the ease of smiling at a dear, old friend, Donald coaxed the water to coat him to his waist and carry him up, and nudged it to do the same for José, Panchito, and Xandra.

Something tugged at his magic, practically screaming his name in alarm. He turned, meeting Della’s desperate gaze.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

Della swallowed thickly. “I’ll – I’ll help you,” she blurted. “I can feed your magic from here. I can help make some wind, I can – “

“Dell,” Donald cut her off. He sent an impression of impatience and unease. They were kind of on a time crunch here.

Della took a deep breath. “If you need help, I’ll be here,” she settled. Then she frowned. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

Donald glanced up. “As careful as I can afford to be,” he said, and he had the water sweep him away before Della could argue.

The boost from the amulet gave him enough power to maintain control over the water easily, and the added boost from José and Panchito’s magic quietly supporting his through their connection as Caballeros allowed him to wield his magic offensively. Della’s added strength, barely a glimmer in the distance, supplied him with more magic all the same. He directed the water to deliver him, José, Panchito, and Xandra closer to Felldrake, gripping his sword and swinging it in an experimental arc, ready to fight once more.

“What do we do?” José asked as Donald brought the four of them closer.

“Obviously we need to get all three of the artifact,” Xandra said, “and soon. They’re making him stronger. After that, we can try sealing him again.”

“He got out, last time,” Panchito said dryly.

Xandra hesitated. “I think… sealing him is our best option,” she said. “I don’t see a way of permanently getting rid of him save for, I don’t know, dropkicking him into a black hole or something.”

“Then what do we seal him into? We don’t have the staff,” José pointed out.

“We can borrow Launchpad’s boot,” Donald offered.

Xandra snorted. “That’ll do. We can go down and take it later. We have a sorcerer who’s in dire need of butt kicking right now.”

* * *

Huey glanced up, taking note of how Uncle Donald rocketed off to the sorcerer, surrounded by sea water, gleaming armor and sword in hand, his friends by his side. He turned back to Louie, in his arms, lying prone with his magic burning like embers that refused to die.

“I can’t reach him,” Dewey said, a note of distress in his voice.

Huey frowned. “I can’t either,” he admitted. Dewey gritted his teeth at his admission, and he leaned forward, bending down at Louie, as if wanting to hug him and not wanting it at the same time. Huey could relate. Holding Louie wasn’t the same when he wasn’t complaining about being hugged while melting into the embrace at the same time.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Violet asked, plopping down to sit next to them. “Anything at all?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” Huey admitted reluctantly. He was usually sure of things when it came to his bond with his brothers – it always seemed so simple before, with them being able to feel each other through their magic.

Dewey reached to take Louie’s hand and frowned. “He doesn’t have his bracelet,” he noted. He turned to Webby. “Wait, didn’t you say you felt his bracelet, uh… snap?”

Webby blinked and gasped. “Oh, right! Yes!” She rummaged in her pocket and took out a newly braided bracelet, green and gold and white in equal amount. “I made a new one earlier, maybe this will help.”

Huey stared. “You made a new one when we were gone inside that bubble? How long were we in there?”

“About an hour and thirty minutes, give or take,” Violet answered.

“You made a new bracelet in an hour and a half?”

“You try making bracelets for a lot of people in a week – “

“It’s fifteen, if I’m not wrong,” Violet cut in.

“ – _fifteen_ bracelets in a week, you get pretty good at making bracelets,” Webby huffed. She reached out to take Louie’s hand. “And I needed to do something with my hands. Just let me put this on.”

Dewey held out Louie’s hand for Webby, and she slipped the bracelet on. She fastened it and scooted back, staring at the bracelet as if by doing so she could will Louie to wake up.

He didn’t, but he felt something in Louie’s magic stir. He stilled and glanced at Dewey, who met his gaze with the same desperate hope he knew was shining out of his eyes.

“Do you think we can reach him if we really, really try now?” Dewey whispered. There was a tremor in his tone, some quiver in his breath that clued Huey in to the fact that he was scared they would never be able to reach Louie again and that Louie would never come back to them.

He swallowed. “I don’t know,” he admitted, “but we have to try.” He offered Dewey a hand as he gripped Louie’s lax one in his other hand.

Dewey stared at his open palm for a moment and nodded. “Okay,” he said, soft, and took Huey’s offered hand. He took Louie’s free hand with the other one.

Huey closed his eyes and dug deep into his magic, into the threads of connections he shared with Dewey and Louie. He felt Dewey immediately, the jumping, active heat he sparked out touching his constant burning for a split second, and they searched for cooling gold. It was there; they knew Louie was there, but he was too far, still, to reach.

Huey pulled back and heaved a frustrated sigh. He held on to the frustration, and the budding anger that was starting to grow. It was much better than the crushing fear and despair that would have swallowed him otherwise.

Dewey went, instead, straight into panic mode. His eyes snapped open, wide, and he stared at Huey as if for clues. “What do we do?” he asked, and his voice had climbed in pitch. “We can’t reach him, he was unresponsive!”

Huey stared blankly at Louie. He was still glowing faintly glow. He wondered absently if it would even go away at all. “…I don’t know,” he admitted at last. He jumped when Lena plopped down next to him, staring at them and clenching and unclenching her fists.

“Lena?” Webby called uncertainly.

She was silent for a moment. “When I was… born, I guess,” she began, “I know my magic is shadow magic, because I was born from Magica’s shadow. Using Magica’s amulet and channeling her magic was pretty much the same. But… cutting off her magic and having her take it back made my magic change.”

“What are you trying to say?” Dewey asked.

Lena fiddled with the bracelet she wore. “I was… basically reborn and reanimated through the power of friendship.” She paused. “Oh my god, that sounds so _dorky_. But it was accurate. I think… I think my magic, now, reflects that.”

“Lena, what are you trying to say?” Dewey repeated.

Lena took a deep, shuddering breath. “There’s something I want to try,” she said, looking at Dewey and Huey with an intense look in her eyes. “It’s okay if you don’t want me to do it, but I might – I _might_ , remember that – I might be able to help you reach Louie.”

Huey’s heart leaped. As usual, Dewey beat him from answering, practically yelling, “Do it!”

“Okay,” Lena muttered, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” He took Huey’s hand, the one still interlocked with Louie’s, and then Dewey’s, stacking them on top of each other on Louie’s chest. She enveloped their hands with her own, taking deep breaths and looking like she was trying to psych herself up for a job she never had an experience doing.

Her hands glowed a cold blue-white. Huey could see the same light shining in her eyes, through her closed lids. Something nudged him to close his eyes and reach out to Louie again, and so Huey did.

This time, the connection he had with Dewey and Louie felt almost tangible, touchable. Huey grabbed at it greedily and searched for Louie’s wane warmth, finding it at the end of the thread along with Dewey’s excitable sparks.

_Found him_ , Huey said, and inhaled in surprise when he realized he couldn’t really speak out loud, not in the way he had intended to do. Instead, his thoughts seemed to echo in the expanse of the space where he, Dewey, and Louie were, wherever it was.

_Louie_ , Dewey breathed, seemingly unbothered by it all. _Louie, wake up._

The cooling gold that was Louie stirred, finally, and moved sluggishly under Huey and Dewey’s prodding, but he was still silent. It reminded Huey of how he would wake up in the morning; slow, tired, unwilling – though this was far slower despite being far more willing.

_Come on, Louie_ , Dewey coaxed.

_I promise I’ll buy you a crapton of Pep after this if you can wake up in the next two minutes,_ Huey said, only partly joking.

Louie was still stirring. Huey waited with bated breath, Dewey by his side buzzing with unbridled nerves.

It was definitely longer than two minutes, at this point.

_I’ll buy you a crapton of Pep anyway. Please just wake up,_ Huey said again.

There was finally a hint of wakefulness at that. Louie’s eyes cracked open, squinting at them. _I’ll hold you to it_ , he mumbled at Huey.

Something abruptly shifted, a jolting sensation so strong it almost made him overlook the flooding relief that made every muscle in his body loosen at once. Whatever the space he and Dewey had finally managed to reach Louie in was gone, and they were back at the deck of the trawler Launchpad captained.

Louie groaned. “Ow, my butt. At least put me on a couch or something, you caveman.”

Dewey reeled back, looking comically offended. “We got you to wake up and the first thing you do is complain about not being comfy?”

“I _like_ being comfy,” Louie muttered, snuggling closer to Huey’s hold. Huey barked out a laughter and shifted to support him better. Dewey huffed, but there was a smile on his beak as he scooted closer to them.

A sob caught their attention, and they turned to see Webby sniffing. She threw herself to them and hugged them, squeezing as hard as she could and ignoring their protests.

Huey glanced around, seeing Violet holding Lena, both looking at Louie in relief though Lena seemed tired. Huey nodded at her in gratitude, and she nodded back, straightening up and taking a deep breath.

Louie shifted in his hold as Webby let go. “What – what’s happening? What’s happened? I’m in total dark here, someone fill me in. Why does Felldrake’s rancid magic feel so strong?”

Dewey barked out a surprised laughter at the description. Webby shook her head and gave Louie the rundown of what had happened, and Huey let her, looking around. Uncle Scrooge and Mom were at the deck, holding tightly to the railing, and there were soft plumes of white around Mom although she wasn’t using her magic. Goldie stood by them, glancing around as if trying to find a way to escape and unhappy that she found none. Launchpad, Fenton, and Drake were all in the pilothouse, locked in a fierce discussion about something.

In the distance, seawater rose up in pillars – from so far away, they almost looked like tentacles. Among them Huey could see lights, shining red, blue, green, and gold, bright against the sickly purple that spread across the sky, pulsing from the end of a few of the water pillars. They all attacked Felldrake, and even afar Huey could see that he had grown in size and was growing, still. Part of him wondered how big he would get. The other part dreaded finding out.

“So that’s how we all ended up here,” Webby said, finishing her tale for Louie.

Louie took a deep breath. “Well, that’s a mess,” he settled at last. He wrung his fingers, opening and clenching his fists, looking around. “Did any of you bring my khopesh? I can feel gold somewhere but it feels far.”

Huey bit the inside of his cheek. “I brought it, but I think it dropped to the sea when we were sucked into that pocket dimension.”

Louie glanced down and closed his eyes. Gold glittered with emerald green glowed softly through his feathers. He held out a hand.

Something shot out of the sea, flying in an arc around the boat and landing safely in Louie’s grasp. His eyelids fluttered open as he gasped, the gold glowing brighter for a second before dimming and dissipating completely. Belatedly, Huey realized that Louie’s magic had felt thin and wobbly when he woke up. With the khopesh in his hand, his magic stabilized and settled.

The khopesh emerging drew Uncle Scrooge’s attention, and he looked at them, taking half a step forward and stopping himself, turning slightly to look at Mom who hadn’t moved a muscle. He grimaced.

Goldie took one look at him and scooted closer to Mom. “Go check on your kids,” she said with a smile that was both sour and reassuring. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Uncle Scrooge _breathed_. “Thank you, Goldie,” he said, and then hurried to them. He all but slid to his knees to check on Louie, holding his chin and gently moving his head side to side as he studied his features. “Do you feel alright, lad? Is there any pain, discomfort, anything?”

Louie shrugged. “I’m as fine as I can be considering I’ve been kidnapped and everything.” His grip on the khopesh tightened, but something in his magic seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Mom grunted. They turned to her, and Huey frowned, feeling his worry spike. “What’s Mom doing?”

“She said something about feeding Donald’s magic with hers,” Uncle Scrooge said. “Something about their bond and her being able to transfer raw power to him through it? It’s – “ he sighed harshly, looking like admittance gave him physical pain, “ – I don’t understand any of it.”

“It’s okay, I think I do,” Huey said softly. “It’s like how Dewey and I can tell Louie was okay.”

Dewey’s eyes widened. “Hey, if we can feel Louie with our magic and we can feel Uncle Donald with magic do you think we can help Mom give Uncle Donald our magic?”

Huey looked up at the midair battle ahead of them. He reluctantly reached out to feel Uncle Donald’s heat with his magic, but he retracted before he could do it, just as José slashed mercilessly at Felldrake’s thigh at the same time as Uncle Donald stabbing the arm, while Panchito blocked a swipe from Leopold and Xandra let loose a slew of arrows to counter the crystal projectiles Felldrake released. “I don’t know if we can. We can’t feel him like Mom does.” He turned to Lena. “Do you think you can help with it?”

Lena closed her eyes, brows furrowed. After a moment, she sighed and shook her head.

A crystal grazed Uncle Donald at the arm. Even from far away, Huey could see him flinch. At the deck, Mom let out a strangled cry. Goldie moved to support her, but she waved her off.

“I can barely coax your bonds to get stronger,” Lena said. “I don’t think I can do anything you’re asking me to do.”

The shadows beneath Lena seemed to bubble and spread, darkening until it was almost pitch black. A voice thrummed out of the shadows. “Of course you can. You’re just untrained.”

Huey choked back a scream as the shadow grew, up, up, up, towering and condensing into a person. Magica twirled her staff and swiped at her cape, somehow looking regal in the chaos that took place in the background.

Lena let out a strangled noise that sounded like a dying animal. “Have you been hiding in my shadow this whole time?!”

Webby let out a guttural growl. Magica ignored the noise and scoffed. “Oh, please. The safest place you can be is where Felldrake wouldn’t pay attention, and your shadows definitely isn’t in his radar.” She let go of her staff, and it dissipated into shadows. “Now, then, Lena. Let’s see what you can do with your magic with just a little bit of direction.”

“Why are you helping us now?” Webby challenged. “You were all for hiding just five minutes ago.”

“And I would be fine with running away because dealing with Felldrake is basically a death sentence, but he sealed off all exits from here.” Magica glared at Felldrake, just as he swung his arm and hit Panchito squarely. “And with Caballeros being pushed back, your chance of survival goes lower. Considering they’re the only ones even remotely capable of _doing something_ about Felldrake, it’s not looking good.” She turned to Lena. “So if there’s anything any of you can do to ensure their victory, you should do it. It’s probably your only chance of getting out of this alive.”

“I can’t do anything,” Lena said as she rolled her eyes. “I can barely even control my magic. I don’t even know for sure what my magic is!”

Magica scoffed again. “Oh, don’t give me that. You _just_ used your magic to allow the boy to wake.”

“It doesn’t count, I just let their bonds grow stronger! And that’s already draining me!”

“But it _does_ count,” Huey protested. “We wouldn’t be able to get Louie back without your help.”

“See, Lena? It _does_ count,” Magica echoed. She dropped to her knees and grabbed Lena from behind, holding her by the arms and ignoring Webby’s aggressive growl at her action. She pulled Lena and rotated her around so Mom would be in her line of sight. “I’ll guide you through it. I know you can feel bonds now. Feel hers to the blue Caballero?”

Lena blinked and took a deep breath. Her irises glowed blue-white, soft and luminous, easily missed if Huey wasn’t looking closely. “Vaguely,” she said.

Magica leaned closer to Lena and spoke, too soft for Huey to hear. He turned his attention back to Louie when he noticed Webby and Violet staring at Magica and Lena with something approaching murder in their eyes. The youngest triplet looked small in his hold, and he adjusted his arms to alleviate the way they started to protest at the weight he had to bear.

“I can hold him for you if you’re tired,” Uncle Scrooge offered.

Louie answered before he could. “No, I’m good,” he said, shifting away from Huey’s arms and sitting on his own.

“What did Felldrake do?” Dewey asked. “You’re always hard to reach when you use magic, but that was… downright impossible.”

“He… amplified my magic,” Louie said. “I think he’s done it to more people like – more people with gold magic, and they don’t… they don’t survive.” He gulped. “He said he’s… not worried about me or something like that, because our family is full of people with strong magic and being a nephew of a caballero… hey, quick question, what the heck is a caballero?”

“Oh boy,” Huey muttered, and he summarized as well as he could. By the end of his over-simplified explanation, Louie’s eyes had widened.

“Are you telling me that Uncle Donald is a superhero?” Louie asked.

“I mean, yeah, considering he’s also Paperinik – “

“He’s _who_?!”

“Um, so.” Dewey paused to gather his thought and told Louie about how Mom basically blew Uncle Donald’s secret identity. By the time he was done, Louie looked completely floored.

“What else did I miss when I was gone?!” he asked, a touch of hysteria in his voice.

“We’ll catch you up when this all blows over,” Huey assured with a placating pat.

He turned back to Lena when he heard her let out a small gasp. The soft glow of her irises had intensified, and her eyes shone intense blue-white. Webby’s bracelet shone the same color, and then Mom’s bracelet did, and Mom took a sharp inhale as the plumes of white around her bloomed suddenly, like a blanket of spores being hit and puffing and spreading in an instant. Faraway, Uncle Donald’s blue glow flickered and then shone brighter, followed soon by the red, green, and gold, and they hit Felldrake harder.

“There you go,” Magica said. “You got it.”

“What did you do?” Uncle Scrooge demanded.

“I had Lena strengthen your niece’s bond with your nephew,” Magica answered easily. “Then the magical transfer gets easier. Though, she might get drained quicker.”

Uncle Scrooge’s eyes widened. “What were you thinking – stop it!”

“It will help the Caballeros defeat Felldrake quicker,” Magica said defensively.

Dewey leaned forward. “Can we do the same for him?”

“Dewey!” Uncle Scrooge snapped. The undertone of concern was painfully easy to hear.

“What, I just want to help!” Dewey said. “If Mom is basically turning into a magical battery then we can lighten the load if we add more batteries, right? And from what everyone keeps saying Felldrake seems like some all-powerful dude. Uncle Donald would need all the help he can get!”

Louie sighed. “He’s not wrong,” he said. “Felldrake’s magic right now is… well, it’s like, _ridiculously_ strong, but it’s still… uh, swelling? Growing? So he’s not hitting his limit yet, but Uncle Donald’s magic is already straining.”

Uncle Scrooge sighed and screwed his eyes shut. “I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s the one whose magic got drained with all the things we did in that pocket dimension.”

“Then that’s more reason to help,” Huey said. “Lena, how does it work? Is there anything we need to do?”

“ _Want_ to help,” Lena said, and Huey paused in confusion for a moment. And then the glow in Lena’s eyes intensified and his bracelet shone, as did Dewey’s, Louie’s, and even Uncle Scrooge’s. in surprise, Huey closed his eyes and was immediately overwhelmed by the sensation of magic rushing over him. His own smoldering embers mixed with Dewey’s sparks and Louie’s gold, and he found a weak impression of jingling coins and old maps from Uncle Scrooge. Wind and the sensation of being suspended in midair from Mom slapped him in the face, and far away, he could feel Uncle Donald’s rushing waves soothing his nerves.

He still didn’t understand Lena’s words, not really, but he took the advice, willing his magic to find home in Uncle Donald. Immediately he felt his magic being siphoned away and Uncle Donald’s shine brighter.

He took a deep breath and willed harder.

* * *

His movements had become a pattern of slashing and stabbing and waving to will the water to move at this point, and he was beginning to tire.

This wasn’t looking good.

His magic was already drained, and apparently getting Magica her magic back had some sort of price that _his magic_ paid. He was just grateful he had the Caballero amulet amplifying his magic, and that he was connected to José and Panchito and Della, because he wasn’t sure he’d even be standing if he wasn’t.

He dodged a crystal whizzing to his head and sent a torrent of water to slap Felldrake. Even with the amulet boosting his magic, he was already so tired. Sudden influx of magic from Della, earlier, had helped, but not by much.

“Two o’clock!” José yelled, and Donald glanced, barely managing to avoid being rammed bodily by Leopold. Xandra turned her bow into a mallet and hit Leopold, hard, sending him plummeting to the seawater below. He splashed in and sputtered around, and Donald decided to ignore him in lieu of making sure Felldrake could be brought down.

“Cover your ears!” Panchito shouted, and Donald did, mostly out of reflex. He willed the seawater to move José, Xandra, and himself away from Panchito while shifting Panchito closer to Felldrake. He’d stopped trying to keep Felldrake in place with water – the ocean fell away the moment it touched his skin, as if some sort of force negated Donald’s grip on it.

Panchito let out a scream, and Donald could see it was as loud as he could make it to be, feeling the sound pierce through his hands. Shallow cuts immediately appeared along Felldrake’s skin, the amethyst crystals that jutted out of his stomach shattering, and Felldrake howled in pain. He sent a slew of crystals Panchito’s way, but the soundwave shattered the crystals away.

The scream died away, finished with a cough as Panchito touched his throat. The shattered crystals that had fallen down floated back up with a glance from Felldrake, and the shards swarmed and flew to Panchito.

Donald threw his hand up, and seawater rushed ahead, spiraling around Panchito and catching the shards in its torrent, then dove back into the ocean. Panchito sent him a quick, grateful look, and Donald nodded at him and focused his attention back at Felldrake.

This _really_ wasn’t good.

His magic was drained, but Felldrake’s was still growing, still shaking the remnants of the old seals off and leaking his magic into the world. He was still growing in size, and despite not paying much attention to them he was still perfectly capable of keeping them at bay. Donald gritted his teeth. This would have been a lot easier if he had been at full power. It would still be difficult, but at least he would be able to land more impactful attacks.

Sudden surge of magic filled him to the brim with raw power, and he sucked in a breath as the magic distributed itself evenly among the Caballeros. Something distinctly _Huey, Dewey, Louie, Della,_ and _Uncle Scrooge_ whispered encouragement in his head, and for a moment Donald felt like he was unstoppable, like a building tidal way that refused to be cowed.

He pointed the tip of his sword to Felldrake. “Guys, together!” he yelled, and immediately José and Panchito were at his side, their weapons all pointed at Felldrake. Raw magic swirled among them and strengthened as it focused more and more to the tips of their weapons, combining into a large white orb that hovered in front of them as they charged it with power. The moment they found it appropriate, they launched the orb at Felldrake, and it hit him square in the stomach. He roared in pain as the orb released lances of light that stabbed him mercilessly.

Felldrake stood in midair, bellowing, “ _Enough!_ ”

Something in his magic snagged Donald and forced him to still. Panic flooded his system as he glanced around for José, Panchito, and Xandra, but they were similarly unnaturally still. They exchanged looks of what Donald knew they all hoped to be wariness. They all knew they were too scared to be way right now.

“I have had enough of you running about like flies around my head,” Felldrake rumbled. His voice sounded like the crack of thunder that was too close for comfort. “I will not let you bother my recovery again.”

His magic seemed to swell, then. If before it seemed to fill up the room, now it felt like it could flood an island. He lifted his hands above his head and his magic gathered quickly, forming rocks and crystals and earth in chunks. With a decisive throw, he used the rocks as projectiles that ripped through the air to them.

Panic and urgency was enough incentive for them to break the immobility spell, and they dodged out of the way. Seawater caught the stray chunks that were too close for comfort, but they came out of it relatively unscathed.

“Ha! You missed us!” Donald crowed, unable to stop himself from gleefully taunting Felldrake. “Better aim next time, Felldrake!”

Felldrake’s lips curled into a smile, cold and cruel and entirely too expectant of something Donald knew he wouldn’t like. “Who said I was aiming for you?”

Donald’s blood ran cold, and he turned around and searched below for his family, and he felt his breath hitched.

It was far away. It was hard to point individuals with how far up he was, but he knew several of his family members were floating at the surface of the sea, partly because the ocean told him about them and partly because he could still do a quick headcount even over there. Still, it made him want to scream, to look down below and see what Felldrake had done to his family.

The trawler was nothing but scrap metal floating above the water. It was clear that Felldrake’s projectiles had torn it apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, seeing that lena has “friendship magic”: what even am i supposed to do with that, how would that correspond to magic in my fic  
> me, making up bullshit about friendship and bonds and connections between people being tangible and potentially something lena can manipulate to an extent: brilliant  
> me, later: wow my time writing lion bonds when i was fucking around in voltron fandom sure came in handy, huh

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me at my tumblr. [trash-raccoon](https://trash-raccoon.tumblr.com/) for my main blog and [twilighteve-writes](https://twilighteve-writes.tumblr.com/) for my writing blog
> 
> also, holy damn, this story now has a [tv tropes page](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/DucktalesMagicAU)??? my life is complete, i have fulfilled my life goals, i can die happy
> 
> have a great day!


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